


So Come to Me

by hydraxx, showmethelions (sightandsound3733)



Series: This is Why We Fight [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Blood and Injury, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Character Death, Rebel Leader Matt Holt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-01-05 22:48:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 61,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12198942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydraxx/pseuds/hydraxx, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sightandsound3733/pseuds/showmethelions
Summary: Reunions, hauntings... It's hard to tell them apart sometimes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the final installment of the This is Why We Fight series! If you haven't read the others, we strongly recommend that you start from the beginning with Come Hell. So Come to Me picks up immediately after the epilogue of Why We Lie Awake.

“Jion. Status update. How we doing on that download?”

“More than halfway there, Commander.”

“Good.” Matt sneaks a glance out the narrow window to see a few Empire soldiers converging on the building they’re in. Well he doesn’t like that, not at all. He quickly opens a line to the Alpha Two team leader. “Everyone check in. Mal, you first. Give me some good news.”

“We’re losing some,” she answers immediately, the strain she must be under showing through clear in her voice. There’s a clatter in the background, among other signs of struggling. “I wouldn’t promise you more than fifteen minutes, sir.”

Less time than he’d like but it’ll have to do. “I can work with that. Hlafas, what about you? You hanging tight out there?”

“Yes, Commander,” Hlafas answers, voice quivering like a leaf. “A few drones have gone by, but I’ve remained undetected.” The unspoken ‘for the moment’ hangs heavy in the air.

“Be easy,” Matt tries to soothe, as gentle as he can manage. He wasn’t good at that at the best of times, let alone mid mission that had hit a snag. “You’re gonna be fine. We’ll be back on base soon.”

“Yes sir.” The answer is immediate, and somehow even more nervous than the last.

Matt mutes the connection and sighs, shaking his head as he returns his attention back to his own chosen console, the last few dregs of his download finishing under careful supervision. “Bringing them is starting to feel like a bad idea,” he mutters to Martek at his side. “I don’t think they’re ready for field work.”

“They are merely anxious, sir,” Martek murmurs, distracted. His fingers move with blinding speed and confidence, his tasks also completed, focus shifting to manipulating security feed recordings, while also keeping an eye on Alpha Two. Matt can’t help but smile. This is exactly why he tries to  pulling Martek for missions. He’s fucking good at this.

Martek spares Matt a glance, the start of a smile tugging at his lips. “Do you remember Jion on his first mission?”

“I wasn’t that bad.” Jion frowns, his nose wrinkling up and his ears twitching.

“You have a selective memory, my friend,” Martek drawls, barely sparing Jion a glance.

“I was just fine on my first mission off base!”

“Jion. You froze up and Baerl had to yank you back to the pod by the scruff of your neck like a pup,” Matt reminds him lightly, a smirk settling easy on his lips. “We’ve got the mission logs and footage to back that shit up, bud.”

Jion’s ears droop for a moment. “I...Yes, Commander.”

Matt chuckles fondly. It’s just too easy to tease him. Poor pup.

The console lights up, the download complete, just as Matt gets a new ping from Mal. “Hey. Just got my drive, we’re gonna start packing up shop. What’s your status?” he asks, pulling the drive from the console and tucking it away.

“We’ve got an incoming craft, Commander.”

“Incoming craft?” He reaches up to loosen his sword from its sheath strapped his back. “I didn’t call for backup.”

“It’s not the Coalition, sir.”

“Empire?” Matt frowns, straightening up and reaching for his sword. “No fucking way they got a distress call out, we froze their systems before getting in.”

“It is not Empire either.”

“I’m learning so much from this conversation,” Matt mutters, curling his fingers tight around his weapon’s grip. “Do we know who the hell it is or what?”

Mal pauses, and even if it’s just a stretch of silence, there’s something off about it. Something weird.   
  
“Mal?” Matt prompts, frown deepening. “Am I gonna get an answer out of you?”   
  
Another pause. “They say they are Voltron, sir.”

“Voltron?” Martek turns from his console so fast Matt thinks it had to have hurt. “Sir, did she say—”

“Yeah, okay.” Matt scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Sure. You’re funny, Mal. But come on, what’s going on?”

“Commander Holt, I am not joking. I received an incoming transmission and then a confirmed visual. They say they are Voltron and… and I have to believe it.” The steadiness has returned to her voice in full force. Matt can see in his mind that she’s straightened up, chin tilted high and proud and she’s serious.

Voltron has apparently appeared.

“Okay, hold on.” Matt presses a hand to the side of his helmet, tapping to up the volume of the comm in his ear. “Voltron’s not a thing. We all agreed that rumors couldn’t be trusted, that it wasn’t a thing and that Commander Leilani was the only one who still thought it could be.”

“I am looking at three of the Voltron lions, Commander,” Mal replies, quick and sharp. It’s a tone he knows well and really hates to hear coming from her so suddenly. Mal is so calm and level headed, it’s why he brought her up through the ranks to the head of Alpha Two in the first place. Shit really has to be getting stirred up if she’s losing her edge. “They’re everything we’ve heard, they’re unmistakable.”

“Leilani is gonna have a fucking field day,” Matt murmurs.

“Mal? Did you say three of the lions?” Jion asks, hesitant and careful. “There are… aren’t there supposed to be five?”

“Yes. I think I’ve found the other two.” Martek keys in a quick sequence and pulls up a security screen from right outside the sector they’re in. Matt allows himself a moment to gape at what he sees.

Two massive, mechanical crafts land just outside the base. “Holy fucking shit,” Matt breathes, taking a step closer. The feed shows the lions—fucking _lions,_ what the ever-living fuck—lowering their heads and dropping their jaws, allowing two figures to come running out.

“Mal, we’ve got a feed on the other two,” Matt says, shaking his head in disbelief. He wracks his brain for what he thinks he knows about Voltron. So many stories have been floating around, and with so little time to sift through fact and fiction. It was easier to discount the lot of it as public hope rallying around a legend. A legend that is manifesting before his very eyes.

“I’ve got a black one and a green one from the looks of it,” he informs Mal. “They’ve got different colors, right?”

“Yes, Commander, I’m looking at red, blue, and yellow,” Mal confirms over the sound of blaster fire. “What should we do?”

“Maintain contact, I guess—” Matt cuts off when Martek’s screen flickers and strange code appears. “What the fuck?”

“Sir?”

“I gotta go Mal, we’ve got something going down here. Do what you think you have to, I trust you.” He closes the comm and frowns at the new code on the screen. It’s clearly not coming from the Empire.

“Commander?” Jion sounds even more confused now. “There’s—on the comm—”

“Yeah, I hear it.” Matt adjusts his settings, trying to dispel the weird, sudden static, until he realizes it’s a new line cutting in. Jesus, this is a mess.

He manages to fiddle until he gets an open connection and snaps, “Hey, who the fuck are you and what are you doing?”

“I’m a paladin of Voltron!” They sound _ridiculously_ young, not that that’s going to make Matt go any easier on someone who’s fucking up his work. “I’m trying to open up the computer systems—”

“Get out of there, you’re messing with my hack.” He waves Martek aside so he can sit down himself and try to break down the paladin’s intrusion. What the fuck kind of code were they running? “Which one are you? We’re gonna have a damn good talk about hacking etiquette when this is over.”

“I’m—ahh!” The buzz of electricity sounds through the line and before Matt can say anything else, the comm closes.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Matt snaps, looking back toward the security feed.

“Sentries, sir,” Martek frowns as the damn buzzards swarm the screen. “They’re converging on the paladins.”

“For fuckssake…” Matt tips his head back, fingers twitching on his blade. “Fuck it. Stay here.”

Martek and Jion both watch Matt as he heads for the door, pushing out into the bright daylight.

The paladins and drones are fighting in the open space at the foot of the stairs. Matt descends as quickly as he can. “Fucking ridiculous,” he mutters darkly. “Fucking  _Voltron.”_

He rolls his shoulders back, trying to work some heat into his muscles. This was supposed to be fucking simple, he’d told Zarra it was going to be simple. _Zarra…_ shit.   
  
Matt pulls himself up short, ducking briefly into an alcove in the wall, opening up a comm line directly to the Commanders. Like hell is he going to be responsible for being Coalition first contact without them knowing what’s up. That never ends well for anyone.

“Holt to base.”

“Holt, what is going on?” Zarra’s voice is crisp in his ear.

Matt groans. “Zarra, I told you to stay off comms.”

“Too late. Fill me in.”

He sighs again, wishing he could pinch the bridge of his nose, and then dives in. “Voltron has apparently showed up. Mal spotted them first, one of them tried to fuck up my hack and I may have told them off a little bit. I’m headed down to help two of them now, before they’re overwhelmed by sentries.” Matt slips out of his dip in the wall, jolting down the stairs as quickly as his legs will let him. “Just wanted to update. Gotta go cut up some robots now.”

“You—what?!” Matt winces at the decibel she just reached. “Voltron? Holt, what are you—”

“No time to explain, bother Martek instead, bye!” He cuts the call before she has a chance to say anything else, and barrels down the last few steps to throw himself into the chaos. As if that isn’t his whole world now.

He spots the black paladin first and takes just enough time to ping their comm and yell, “Friendly!” before taking up his sword and slicing the blaster arm off of a drone. Black whirls to look at him, face obscured by the helmet.

They’re tall, built like the type of fighter he looks for when recruiting for the strike teams. Strong, but not bulky, looks like they’d be quick on their feet, got a good stance. Matt frowns when he sees they’ve got no weapon—fighting hand to hand? With the drones?

He doesn’t get to puzzle over that as Green, who’s fucking tiny in comparison to Black, shouts, “Look out!” and both of their focus is drawn back to the fighting.

As they move around one another Matt realizes that Black is fighting with tech—Galra tech, Empire tech, a prosthetic arm to match Matt’s own legs.

Well shit.

What are they, who are they? A defector like Ortraz? An escaped prisoner like Matt?

No time to ask now. Just another thing to address when they get these drones cleared up.

They’re almost clear of enemy attackers when Matt opens a comm to Martek and Jion. “How we doing, kids?”

“Finishing up, Commander,” Martek answers.

“Good.” He pings all the Coalition on the ground to order, “Everybody to your pods. I want to be up and away in ten minutes.”

“Yes, Commander!” echoes to him in six different voices. Perfect. He closes the lines just in time to spot one of the last sentries lunging toward Black while they take down a different drone and Matt yells, “Get down!”

The helmet gets knocked off Black’s head by the force of a blow they couldn’t dodge. Matt doesn’t waste the time to check on them before swinging his sword into the attacking drone's chest plate, knocking them off the blade with a sharp kick. There’s enough force behind the blow and enough weight to his prosthetic that the chest plate caves in, cutting through essential wires in the process.  

The drone hits the ground, a sparking mess as it malfunctions and then dies. Good riddance. Empire drones are like fucking cockroaches. Matt looks away from the drone, casting a cursory glance around their immediate vicinity.

Green’s just taken down the last of the drones, wrenching their own weapon from some circuitry, an odd little bladed thing that sparks as it’s pulled free into its owner’s hand again. Satisfied that it’s just the three of them left, Matt turns to check on the black paladin.

“Hey, you good?” Matt pants, breathless now that he has a moment to try and catch it.

They’re turned away from him to inspect their helmet but they reply in a low, steady, voice, “Should be fine.”

That voice… It tugs fast at Matt’s heart, too similar to one he used to know—one he lost. Hearing it makes him straighten up and zero right in on the paladin.

They turn to him with an easy, friendly smile, and everything in Matt’s world stops.

He knows that voice. He knows that chiseled jaw, those high cheekbones, the steely gray eyes. The jagged scar and shock of white hair are unfamiliar, sure, but Matt knows that face.

Shiro. He’s looking at Shiro, his lost love, his long-dead martyr.  
  
And there’s no way that this is real.

A growl rips its way from Matt's chest, a sound of long dampened pain suddenly revived, and not a thought crosses his mind before he launches himself toward the paladin, pinning him to the wall of the command structure.

“Who are you?!” Matt snarls, forearm pressed to the throat of the wide-eyed paladin. “Who the fuck are you!?” He’s shaking, shocked and angry, unable to look away from this face he knows is lost to him now.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?!”

“Pidge, stand down,” the paladin orders calmly over Matt’s shoulder. There’s a tone of command to his voice that Shiro had only just started to cultivate with the younger cadets at the Garrison, one Matt teased him for endlessly, but no—no, it can’t fucking be him. Shiro’s dead. Shiro is dead, and this is some fucked up trick.

“Who. Are. You?” Matt’s gripping his sword painfully tight. He kind of hates how this guy isn’t fighting him off, he’s just letting Matt pin him against the wall. And he is _letting_ him, Matt’s under no delusions about that. He’s no weakling, not anymore, but the paladin is bigger than him, stronger than him, and Matt’s being _allowed_ to be this close. The only reason he got the upper hand in the first place is that he caught this guy off guard.

A low rumble shakes the ground, a sound unlike anything Matt’s heard before. A growl, the start of a roar, something animal that sends a shiver right up his spine. The paladin’s eyes flicker past Matt. Some of the lines smooth from his forehead and his confusion melts into composure. Matt could swear he straightens up a bit, even while still being pinned.

“I’m the Black Palad—”

“Fuck that. Give me a name!”

“Sir!” Martek and Jion hurry down the stairs together, looking confused at the sight of Matt pinning a paladin to the wall. “We have all the data, and Hlafas is ready in the pod.”

Matt growls, only stepping back because his team is waiting for him now. “We’re not done,” he spits, jabbing a finger sharply against the paladin’s broad sweep of armor, and then turns on his heel to follow Martek and Jion.

As he brushes past the green paladin they say, voice clipped, “The black lion didn’t like that.”

“Like I fucking care,” he retorts sharply. He doesn’t give them a chance to respond. The legs are the only reason he’s still standing, their physical inability to crumble under him like a falling house of cards, and they give a power to his stride that Matt couldn’t conjure on his own right now if his life depended on it.

Matt is the last to board the craft, the rest of his team ready and waiting for them. Martek approaches him first, helmet off as soon as the doors hiss shut behind him. “Commander Holt—”

“Get us off planet and get me a line to Command,” he orders, voice sharp and harsh. Martek blinks at him, clearly stunned, unused to the anger in Matt’s voice.

“Sir, are you—”

Matt whips off his helmet, glaring at his second. “Fucking now, Martek! That was an order!”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Jion startle back, Hlafas sink a little more into their seat. He’s doesn’t speak to them like that, has never needed to. Outside of dealing with diplomats and other leaders, Matt doesn’t raise his voice. That’s not the Commander he is or one he ever wants to be. But right now that doesn’t matter.

Martek stands still before him for a moment, just a heartbeat, his dark eyes meeting Matt’s own. He doesn’t know what his second must see there, what wild, untamed and raw emotion there has to be, but whatever it is, Martek sees it, reads it, and then he nods.

“Yes, Commander. Right away.” Martek crosses to the main console, keying in the take-off protocols to get them in the air with one hand, connecting an open line to the main command deck with the other. “Please take a seat, sir.” His voice is flat—clean and efficient—and something about it soothes the tangle of _hurtangerconfusion_ that’s wrapped tight around Matt’s chest.

Matt straps himself in as Martek says into the comm, “Command pod in the air, Alpha Two following. Commander Holt on the line.”

“Holt, update us.” Oh thank god, it’s Kartok this time instead of Zarra.

“We’re coming back to base.” He fights past the tightness in his throat to do what he needs to. “We got some unanticipated backup from Voltron, apparently, and a couple of their pilots might be a little pissed at me now.”

Leilani speaks up. “We’ve just made contact with their main ship. !oshi is speaking with them now. What happened?”

“Some sick fucking trick.” Matt grips the edges of his helmet tight enough that it’s painful, even through his gloves. “I’m gonna murder someone, Leilani! Voltron legend bullshit be damned, someone’s gonna die for this!”

“That tells us nothing!” Zarra’s voice chimes in, tense with worry. His heart twinges at the sound, but it’s weak to everything else going on inside his chest. “Holt—Matthew, what’s going on?”

There’s a quick click of some keys on their end and the viewscreen of the pod flickers to life, giving Matt a view of the Commanders, standing all together on deck. Great, now they can see the mess he is. Just fucking great.

Matt forces a deep breath. “I don’t know, but something’s fucked,” he says roughly, ignoring the flick of Jion and Hlafas’ eyes toward him at the new tone. “One of these paladins… they look like—they’re impersonating someone I lost. To the arena.”

Martek straightens up and takes a step closer to Matt. A long faded conversation from the unfinished Hub flits across Matt’s mind, a memory from what feels like a lifetime ago, the first and last time he mentioned Shiro since joining up with the Coalition.

“Matthew,” Leilani breathes, their eyes impossibly wide.

“No, don’t.” Matt curls one hand into a tight fist. “I know my grip on reality borders on shaky most days, but I’m not imagining this. There’s no way he’s alive, that he survived the arena, but guess who I was looking at just now!”

“Commanders?” !oshi hesitates, peeking out from behind Kartok on screen. “We have arranged a meeting with Voltron through Captain Mal. The five paladins and the Princess Allura are on their way to base now. They will arrive not long after Commander Holt’s pod.”

“Perfect,” Matt growls. “I’ll head up the welcoming committee.”

“No, you won’t,” Zarra is quick to say, leaning in toward him, her hands pressed to the flat of the console. “Absolutely not!”

“It would be better for us to be with you,” Kartok tries to soothe, aiming his words at Matt and Zarra both. He fits one large hand to Zarra’s back and keeps his eyes trained steady on Matt. “You will not have to face this, whatever it is, alone. We are here and we—”

“You don’t get any say in how I handle this.” Matt grits his teeth, fighting the urge to relax at Kartok’s low and calming tone.

“This is a diplomatic matter,” Leilani reminds him. “Whatever else may be going on, it is not your domain—”

“It’s fucking personal!” he snaps. “He’s dead and they stole his face! I had to look into the eyes of the man I loved—” He shuts down as soon as the words come out of his mouth.

The three Commanders just stare at him, and so does his team. Matt can feel all their eyes on him. He can’t even imagine what they’re seeing as they look. He closes his eyes tight.

“Matthew…” Leilani speaks first, their voice soft, but it feels like the crash of cymbals in the silence between them. “Starling…”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he says, eyes still closed, voice choked to his own ears. “I don’t understand how this is happening, but I know what I saw, and I know it’s not possible.”

“Perhaps it is not what it seems,” Kartok offers. Even the low, soothing rumble of his voice can’t calm Matt now. “You cannot jump down the darkest hole and start making decisions based—”

“Based on what, Kartok?” Matt barks out a laugh. His eyes open but stay fixed on the floor as he shakes his head. “On fact? Slaves don’t survive the arena. I know that, you know that, we all know that!”

“Why did you not tell us?” Zarra asks. Her words are far more gentle than Matt can take right now. This is the way she speaks when they’re alone, behind closed doors with their hands locked tight together, when they are not Commanders, but Amatus. It’s safety and love and Matt can’t take that when his world is falling apart.

“I told you they took everything from me.” Matt swallows hard, dragging his gaze back to the screen. Back to his kin. “The Empire took my father and my freedom. The witch took my legs. And the arena took—Shiro.”

It’s the first time he’s said the name aloud in years. What once fell so easy from his tongue he chokes on now.

Everyone remains silent.

Matt swallows. “I’m gonna figure out what the hell is going on, diplomacy or no. Something’s up.”

“Let us help you.” Leilani folds all their hands together, eyes big and pleading. “Matthew, we are kin. We want only what is best for you. Please, come to us when you land. Let us talk and be together before making any decisions.”

Irritation rises hot in his chest. “I’m making this decision for myself,” he snaps. “They can’t get away with whatever the fuck this is. I won’t let them.”

“Holt, we don’t know—”

“Exactly!” Matt cuts across Kartok, brow furrowing in anger. “We don’t know! And I don’t trust them!”

“Trust _us!”_ Zarra is frowning deeply at him. “Set Voltron aside, whatever may be going on, and trust us! We are your kin!”

“And Shiro was the love of my life,” Matt snaps, getting to his feet, helmet clattering to the floor. “I’m not waiting around for you to figure out how to play nice with them! I’m not doing it, Zarra!”

“You’re being hot-headed—”

He laughs, fully aware that he sounds a little unhinged. “Yeah, sure, I’m being hot-headed. Like none of you would be suspicious if your loved ones came back from the fucking dead. I’m not playing this game, I’m not going to tiptoe around the issue. I want to know what the hell is going on, because this is personal. Martek, cut it.”

“Sir?”

“Cut the fucking comm.”

The Commanders’ protests blink into silence.

Matt clenches his fists, his breath coming hard and uneven. Martek turns to him, calm and composed, while Matt feels like he’s seconds from shaking apart.

“What orders, Commander?”

A glance at the front display tells Matt they’re only minutes away from the ship. “We dock as planned,” he says, quiet but stern. “Rel can run the debrief for Alpha Two. You three take the data we got and get started on analysis.”

“What will you be doing, sir?” Martek is already tapping out a message to Rel while Jion and Hlafas watch Matt uncertainly.

“I’m rolling out the welcome wagon.” Matt leans down to grab his helmet off the ground, tossing it onto his seat instead. “Gonna make sure Voltron feels all the hospitality the Coalition has to offer.”

Martek frowns, but chooses to say nothing in response to that. Good.

Matt strips off his gloves and pushes up his sleeves in an attempt to settle some of the energy coursing through him before it can make him jittery. Baring his arms means baring the scars that mark and mar his skin, but Matt honestly couldn’t care less at this point.

The silence in the pod is stiff, imposing and tense, and Matt knows he’s freaking Jion and Hlafas out. Hlafas at least has never seen Matt lose his cool before, and the few times Jion has in the year and a half he’s been with Matt, it hasn’t been anywhere near on this level. Nothing could compare to this.

“For the record,” Matt says, forcing a calm over himself. “You all did great back there. I’m going through a bit of a thing, as you can see, but you guys did great. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Jion murmurs, and Hlafas echoes him, wide eyed and unsure. Jion hesitates, ears twitching, before continuing. “Are… are you alright, sir?”

“Not really, Jion.” Matt offers a hollow smile.

“You said…”

“Jion,” Martek says softly. He shakes his head once and the young Galran falls silent.

“We’re landing, sir,” Martek informs him, careful and quiet. Matt nods, grabbing his helmet from his chair, slipping it back on. Last thing he needs is his emotions splaying out all over his face while he deals with this.

The moment the hatch opens, Matt bolts for the visitor hangar. Techs acknowledge him briefly as he passes—helmet on, sleeves pushed up, stormy in every line of his body. None of them are stupid enough to get in his way.

“Give me an ETA on Voltron,” he snaps as he strides into the last and largest of their hangar spaces. If they’re coming in even the smaller of the two lions he saw, they’re going to need all the space they can get.

“Coming in now, sir,” the tech answers dutifully. “Shall I contact !oshi to alert the other Pillars while you wait for them, Commander?”

“I’m not waiting for anyone.” Matt narrows his eyes at the screen that shows the bay door opening. “Tell !oshi, or don’t. I don’t care. But I’m not waiting.”

The door opens and two lions appear: red and yellow. Neither are as big as the black one, it seems, which is fortunate given the limited hangar space. Who the fuck built gigantic robot space cats and called it a day? Matt would love to get a look at that lunatic.

For now, though, he waits tensely as the lions land and the bay door grinds shut again.

“Commander Holt—?” The tech looks up at him, wary and unsure. Matt’s turning on his heel before they can say anything more than his name. He takes the steps from the observation deck down into the hangar and strides forward just as both of the lions are lowering down to let out their passengers.

Five paladins, dressed in the same armor as Black and Green had been, each a different color, and one statuesque figure in a stylized flight suit. Princess Allura, !oshi had said. Matt doesn’t really care. He’s only got eyes for the paladin standing directly to her right, the one in black with Shiro’s voice and face.

The princess stiffens at Matt’s approach. “Hello,” she says in an accented voice. “I am Princess Allura and these are the Paladins of Voltron. We were told your commanders would be here to greet us—”

“You’ll be dealing with me,” Matt says shortly. She stiffens, eyes going sharp. Matt just smirks. “Is that a problem?”

“I would prefer to deal with the leaders of this operation,” she says, smiling tightly. “If you wouldn’t mind calling for them, or taking us to—”

“Commander!” The door opens and Martek comes rushing in, breathless. “Sir, the other Pillars-”

“Be easy, Martek,” Matt orders, looking toward his second, aware of the shifting from the Paladins and Princess across him. Princess Allura looks vaguely like she’s eaten something sour. He smirks again as Martek sets himself just off his right shoulder. “You were saying, Princess?”

“Sir,” Martek murmurs. “The other Commanders—”  
  
“I said to be easy. Breathe.” Matt bites back a sigh. He’d told Martek to go to the damn Hub.

“Yes sir.” Martek nods, still trying to catch his breath. It’s clear that he’s not planning on going anywhere. The emotional storm tearing up Matt’s chest calms for a moment.

With Martek settled steady at his side, Matt looks back to the Crayola collection before him. “Like I said, you’ll be dealing with me. You wanted a Commander, and you’ve got one.”

The green and black paladins trade a look before Black pulls his helmet off. “Commander,” he says carefully, “we—”

Matt narrows his eyes at Black. “The only thing I want to hear out of you is answers,” he snaps. “Who gave you the right to wear his face? Who are you?”

“These are the Paladins of Voltron,” Princess Allura says again, taking a step ahead of the group. It’s a protective move, it’s her showing him who’s in charge. “And you’re speaking to the Black Paladin, head of—”

“Believe it or not, I worked out the basics for myself. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re kind of color coded.”  Matt crosses his arms over his chest, palms itching to grasp his sword or staff. “And I most definitely wasn’t talking to you, Princess, I was talking to _him_.” Matt spits the last word at Black. “I want you to give me a fucking name, dammit.”

“I don’t know who you think I am,” Black starts, annoyingly calm and composed. “And I’m sorry if I—”

“HOLT!”

Martek winces as the doors hiss open to usher in a whirlwind of fury. Matt curses, the Galran words falling easy off his lips, and turns sharply. “I swear to fucking _God,_ Zarra—” He misses the way all the paladins go still.

She stalks right up to him, bristling, her fur absolutely standing on end. “What did I say over the comms, ah? What? You were to wait! But no! No! You came down here without any of us, without stopping to talk. This is not how we operate, you know this—”

“I’m kind of in the middle of something here!” Matt throws a hand up, furious. “What’s the matter with you?”  
  
“With me?!” Zarra scoffs.   
  
“Yeah! You!”

The other two Commanders sweep in before Zarra can snap back.

Leilani spreads their arms invitingly as they breeze to Matt’s side. “Princess, Paladins. Welcome aboard.” They turn to look askance at Matt and Zarra. “We are putting on quite a show of unity for our guests, I see. They are no doubt entertained.”

“You know, snark really doesn’t suit you,” Matt says dryly. “And I don’t particularly care what they think, because—”

Zarra scoffs, her arms winding tight in front of her chest. “Oh, give it a rest, Holt!”

“You are so—!”

“Wait.” It comes from the black paladin. Matt frowns at the desperate tremor he can hear in the word. He looks away from his kin and back to their guests, meeting grey eyes, liquid under a furrowed brow, perfect lips Matt can still feel against his skin. “What is your name?”

“Oh, so now _you’re_ gonna ask the questions?” Matt drawls, narrowing his eyes.

“You asked for mine… right now I’m asking yours.” Black’s grip on his helmet tightens, mechanical fingers looking like they’re about to crack through the plating entirely. He stands too straight, too tense, and there’s something unsteady and impossibly like hope swimming in those eyes. “Please. Who are you?”

Matt frowns, his gaze trailing over the five paladins and their princess. He still doesn’t trust them but they’ll learn his name sooner or later.

His legs whir softly as he stands a little taller. “I’m Commander Matthew Holt of the Intergalactic Coalition.”

There’s a beat of silence and utter stillness before a cry.

“Matt?!”


	2. Chapter 2

_“Matt?!”_

His name rips through the air, drenched in disbelief and hope, and the green paladin breaks rank from the others. Matt doesn’t get a chance to react before Zarra snarls, whipping out her pistol to stall Green in their path. It’s an empty threat—Matt knows she’ll hold until there’s real proof they’ve got a problem, but Green doesn’t.

They freeze to cries of alarm from their group at the sight of the gun, more than one of them reaching for weapons of their own among calls of “Pidge!”, but Green doesn’t retreat, choosing instead to stay right where they are, hands curling into shaking fists.

There’s something about the set of their shoulders, the stock still way they hold themself, and the tension in their tiny frame that’s almost familiar. Matt frowns, looking away from them and back instead to Black.

The paladin just stands there, stunned.

It takes Matt a minute too long to process what Green had said, what they’d called him.

Matt. They called him _Matt_ —a name few here in the Coalition know at all, and that virtually no one uses. Only his kin call him anything but _Commander_ or _sir,_ and Zarra is the only one among them to ever slip toward Matt over Matthew, and even that is only then when they’re alone.

But the green paladin...Why would they call him Matt?

Green is still frozen where they stand, stuck in no-man’s-land between their friends and the Coalition. It’s clear they’re wary of Zarra and the threat she presents, but it isn’t enough to stop them from pulling their helmet off in a rush of wild curls as his name trips broken from their lips again.

“Matt!”

He pulls his gaze from Black, drawn more toward Green in the moment than the frozen imposter wearing Shiro’s face, and then Matt himself goes instantly still as he meets amber eyes he knows too well.

“Katie?!”

“Matt,” she sobs, big, fat tears running freely over her cheeks, flushed bright and blotchy with color. Matt’s moving before she can, pushing past Zarra to get closer to his sister before he can take another breath. Zarra reaches for him with a quiet sound of surprise, just as Kartok lets loose a low rumble, an echo of a threat. All are drowned out by the sound of his footfalls in his rush to get to Katie.

She’s in his arms before Matt can fully skid to a stop and they end up tangled on the ground together. He fumbles to get his helmet off so he can look at her with his own eyes. He’s not sure if he imagines the gasp that comes from the paladins’ side.

Her hair is chopped short, which is surprising enough on its own, but her changed face tugs at his heart. She looks so much older than when he left her.

Katie bursts into fresh tears the moment she sees his face. Matt throws his helmet to the side, leaving his arms free and ready to hug and hold her tight.

“Katie, _Katie_ , oh my God!” He can’t help but be stuck on her name, stricken with shock that his baby sister is out here in the void of space. “How did you get here? What the hell is going on?”

“I—I—I was—looking for—you.” Her words are broken up by hiccups that Matt can feel in his ribs with how tightly he’s holding her. She’s only getting more worked up. “W-we—I—”

“Breathe.” Matt catches her chin with one hand, trying to hold her gaze steady. “Katie, I need you to breathe for me, okay?” She’s shaking in his arms, her lower lip quivering something awful. His heart clenches in his chest. It takes a lot to get her like this… or at least it used to.  
  
“What do we do?” Matt overhears from the paladins while Katie takes a very unsteady deep breath. “I’ve never seen her like this before…” Matt cuts his eyes toward the direction of the unfamiliar voice, catching the blue paladin leaning toward Yellow. Matt arches a brow at them both. Blue holds his hands up in surrender but Yellow meets Matt’s gaze head on from behind the visor, broad shoulders straightening out, just a bit.

“I was—looking for—you,” Katie repeats shakily, drawing Matt’s full attention once more. She blinks and another wave of tears wash freely over her cheeks. “They—they told us you were—dead, the Garrison did, so I started looking—and then—Voltron happened and—”

“Pidge,” the princess says sharply, cutting through Katie’s babbling easily. “This is your brother?”

Katie just nods, falling silent immediately, biting down on her lip.

Matt frowns, sparing the princess a glance before returning to his sister. “Katie, why do they keep calling you that?”

“Calling—you mean Pidge? I’ve been going by that,” Katie manages between shaky breaths with wet curls sticking to her cheeks. The question seems to ground her, just a bit. “I… after the Kerberos mission I had to… I snuck into the Garrison. Had to use a fake name. It took a while and by the time we found Shiro—”

Shiro. 

Matt looks up and locks onto gray eyes he feels like he’s seen only in his dreams. He finds hope, pain, bubbling anxiety, such a confused yet beautiful mix. A hesitant, unsure smile parts lips he’d bargain with Death for another taste of, and the paladin’s voice shakes when he says, “Long time no see…”

Maybe it’s the way he holds himself, too tense but not defensive, looking like he’s holding himself back from bolting to be where Matt is. Maybe it’s the way he’s smiling, with just the corners of his mouth, or the pure, unadulterated affection, the look of love that Matt has seen only in his memories for so long. Matt doesn’t know what exactly it is, but with Katie in his arms, his doubts melt away.

The Empire didn’t know Katie. They couldn’t fabricate his sister, didn’t have access like they’d had with Shiro. For her to be with him now… Well, it only means one thing.

This isn’t an imposter. It _can’t_ be.

Matt doesn’t understand, it shouldn’t be possible, it shouldn’t be real but the proof stands before him, backed by his sister’s word and her presence curled up in his arms.

“Takashi?” Matt breathes, unable to suppress the raw emotion in the name he hasn’t let live in the air for years.

Shiro’s breath catches in his throat and he physically reels back, as if Matt just saying his name struck him like a blow.

“Yeah,” he says, the word cracking down the middle on its way past his lips. “Hi, Matt.”

There’s another beat of stillness in the hangar before the red paladin at Shiro’s side pushes Shiro forward, sending him stumbling across the floor.

“Takashi,” Matt croaks again, reaching out one arm while the other stays firmly tucked around his sister.

 _“Matt.”_ Shiro’s eyes are already filling with tears as he kneels next to him. “I… God. It’s really you.”

“And it’s you...” Matt swallows around the lump in his throat to pull Shiro in. He feels like every bit of strength he might use to hold himself together is broken, cracked open and leaking out on the floor. Shiro’s arms wrap around him and Matt’s brain shuts down.

The last time they did this was on the floor of an Empire cell. Now they’re on the floor of the fucking Coalition hangar, decked out in armor, and both bearing unfamiliar scars. Matt holds him tight and tries his hardest not to cry.  
  
Warm honey and the spicy freshness of mint tickle the back of Matt’s tongue. He can barely make out Leilani murmuring something to Kartok.

“How?” Matt rasps. “How are you—” He swallows back the question, voice dropping to a whisper. “I thought you _died_ …”

Shiro shakes his head, obviously trying to gather himself enough to speak. “No, I—I escaped. It took some time, but… I got out.”

Matt tugs him closer, tucking his head between his own arm and Shiro’s neck. His skin is warm against Matt’s cheek. He breathes in deep, hoping to steady himself, but ends up choking on a cry. Fucking hell, this is cliché, but he smells the same. Something warm and herbal and wholly Shiro. “I missed you so much,” Matt whispers.

Shiro pulls both Matt and Katie close against his chest and holds on tight. “I missed you too,” he murmurs. Matt’s eyes flutter shut when he feels Shiro tuck his face into his neck, and he has to swallow back a sob at the light brush of Shiro’s lips against his skin.

“I missed you,” Shiro whispers again, breath warm and words muffled. Matt just holds on tighter. Katie is squished between them, but she doesn’t seem to mind, still shaking with her tears.

Matt jumps when he feels a gentle touch at his shoulder. “Matthew,” Leilani murmurs, voice warm like the honey they leave in his mouth. “Perhaps we should move from the hangar. This is hardly the best place for a reunion.”

“Just… Give me a minute,” he says, voice thick. They hum in answer, and Matt doesn’t need to look to know the smile that’s sure to be sitting on their lips.

As Leilani moves away he can hear a soft exchange of voices. He can pick out Kartok’s low timbre and the accented quirk of Zarra’s voice, but all his focus is consumed by the two in his arms. His Katie. His Takashi. They’re _here._

“What are you doing here?” Katie asks softly, shifting between him and Shiro, looking up at Matt with tear-stained cheeks and red eyes.

“What?” Matt blinks back at her.

“What are you doing here, Matt?” she asks again. “How did you get here? You were… We heard how you were separated from Dad and then from Shiro a-and that he thought you were taken to a prison or something but…”

“It’s a long story,” Matt admits, chest seizing up as memories dance at the edge of his mind. Shiro holds him tighter. He remembers too. “Too long to get right into now… but I think it’s pretty clear I’m not in prison? Not anymore at least.”

He barely hears Shiro’s breathed _Thank God._

“As for what I’m doing—I thought the title made that fairly clear,” Matt tries to joke. It comes out much weaker than he’d like. “I’m a Commander.”

“Really?”  
  
“No, I’m lying to you.” Matt rolls his eyes despite the twinge in his chest at her earnest, confused curiosity. “Yes, really.”

Katie stares at him, wide-eyed, Shiro clears his throat and finds Matt’s hand, squeezing tight. “How, Matt? What happened?”

“It really is a long story, I swear that’s not a cop-out,” Matt mutters. “I can—I’ll tell you later. Not—not here. Not right now.”

Something dark swirls in Shiro’s eyes as he nods. “Okay. Later.” Matt wonders if he’s imagining the tone of disbelief in _later,_ if he’s just projecting his own uncertain hope that that exists for them now.

Another tickle of honey on his tongue reminds Matt where he is. Right. The Commanders, his kin… everyone is waiting for them. Matt sucks in a deep breath. “Okay,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Okay, we’re still on the floor. We should—we should move.”

“Probably,” Shiro laughs softly. The sound washes over Matt like a balm, settling warmly between his bones. God he’s missed that sound. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“That might be a bit of an understatement.” Matt flashes him a wobbly grin and starts to pull back from the embrace. Shiro’s hold tightens around him momentarily before relaxing and letting him go, but Katie just presses herself closer.

Oh she’s gonna break his heart. 

“Katie,” Matt whispers, smoothing a hand gently over the back of her head. It’s weird to feel the ends of her curls clinging to his fingers when her hair used to be so _long._ “Katie-cat. Come on."  
  
Her voice is muffled against his chest as she retorts, “I’m not letting you go.”

Matt’s heart aches. “You don’t have to,” he assures her quietly. “We gotta get up off the floor, though. My knees can’t handle this. Can you get up for me now?”

It would feel like every time he helped her up after a fall when they were young, every time he soothed scraped knees and burned fingers, if not for the pit of knowledge that he hasn’t seen her in well over three years.

Katie nods, face still pressed against his chest, and Matt doesn’t bother trying to swallow back his amused sigh. Shiro gets up first and extends a hand down for Matt to take. Their hands fit together, Matt’s heart playing hopscotch against his ribs, Shiro’s smile gentle and soft.

Matt pushes up to stand with a particularly loud whir of his legs. Immediately eyes are drawn to him and Matt swallows his usual disdain when he sees the stricken horror that jumps to Shiro and Katie’s eyes.

“Long story,” he offers once more with a smile, shrugging. They’re a shock, he knows, but the legs have been a part of him for so long now. Matt really doesn’t notice them at all anymore.

“Matt...” Katie bites down on her lower lip, reaching for his hand and holding on tight. “What—”

“Not now, Katie-cat.” He gives her hand a squeeze. “We’ve got business to attend to.”

Matt sees something spark in Shiro’s eyes, something like pain, but it’s gone before he can be sure. Katie frowns, but she nods. Matt smiles and pulls her to her feet with his right hand.

Shiro’s eyes flicker down again to the prosthetics.

“Later,” Matt insists quietly. He squeezes Shiro’s hand, waits until he can catch and hold his gaze before smiling. “Later. Okay?”

Shiro just nods, so Matt nods back and looks around for the other Commanders.

All three are a few paces behind him, watching carefully. Matt offers them all a smile. “Sorry about that,” he murmurs. “Should we get on with the regular thing? I kind of blasted right past protocol when I got down here.”

“We noticed,” Zarra huffs at him. She’s tucked her pistol away now and set herself closer to Kartok’s side. It’s only the flicker of an ear that gives away that she’s teasing. Matt’s smile stretches into a grin.

Leilani steps forward first, smiling and brushing a hand over his shoulder.

“We welcome you all aboard,” they begin, smiling serenely at the princess and the three helmeted paladins. “I am Commander Leilani of the Intergalactic Coalition. My fellow Commanders are Kartok, Zarra, and Holt—although it seems some of you know him quite well already.” They spare a soft glance for Shiro and Katie.

Voltron’s princess hesitates a moment before she too steps forward. “As I said to Commander Holt before things… dissolved on us, I am Princess Allura, and these are the Paladins of Voltron.” Princess Allura folds her hands before her and smiles for the Commanders. “It is a great pleasure to meet you all.”

“Likewise,” Leilani agrees, eager and excited. “We have long heard whispers of Voltron and it brings joy to our hearts to now know the rumors to be true.”

“And we are always thrilled to meet others who have taken up arms against the Galra.” The princess smiles again, sweet as pie. Matt frowns at the phrasing. He doesn’t need to look to know that Zarra’s gone tense.

Leilani doesn’t falter an inch, smile just as lovely and warm. “Paladins, may we have your names?” they ask.

“Oh!” There’s a little exclamation from one of them—Blue, Matt thinks—like they’d forgotten they were part of this instead of just spectators to the scene, before the remaining three pull off their helmets.

They’re—they’re all human. Somehow that’s jarring. Years in space without a single human, and now he’s surrounded by five of them.

Matt blinks and then freezes when he recognizes yet another face.

“Keith?!”

The red paladin looks up at him with a sheepish smile. “Yeah. Hey, Matt.”

Matt gapes for a moment, before whipping to face Shiro. “You brought Keith? Your shadow? Seriously? Jesus, Shiro, what’d you do, just pick up any crazy kid back on Earth and haul them into space?”

Shiro rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I didn’t do anything… It’s more like _they_ found _me_ ,” he murmurs. “It’s—”

“A long story?” Matt guesses. His stomach turns tricks at the smile that gets him in response.

“Yeah,” Shiro nods, squeezing Matt’s hand a little tighter. “Kind of. We’ll—Later. I promise.”

Matt just nods. _Later_ seems almost too good to be true.

“Well, that is three paladins.” Leilani laughs lightly. Matt smiles at the warmth that trickles down his spine at that familiar, bell-like ring. “And the last two? What are your names?”

“I’m Lance.” The blue paladin raises a hand, and then points to the yellow paladin at his side. “And this is Hunk. We don’t know Matt personally or anything, only what Pidge has told us.”

“Hi,” Hunk smiles, waving a meaty hand that Matt thinks is the literal size of a frying pan, but in a way that speaks of gentleness. Huh. Okay.

Leilani dips their head to each of them in turn. “It is an honor, Paladins. Now, if we are ready, may we escort you to a more appropriate location so may we speak in greater comfort?”

“Please.” Princess Allura waits until Leilani turns toward the door with a gentle gesture to follow and then stiffly falls in with them and Kartok. Zarra trails them. Matt turns to Martek, who is waiting patiently, holding the helmet Matt had so quickly discarded.

“Be easy,” Matt says, before Martek can say anything himself. “Go to the Hub, work with Rel on the debrief, and I’ll call if I need you.”

“Yes sir.” Martek nods, standing too stiff, too unsure. Matt just smiles.  
  
“Go,” he says again, a touch softer. Martek nods again, shoulders relaxing a touch at Matt’s tone. He turns and leaves with the helmet tucked securely under his arm.

With that taken care of, Matt steps forward, chest throbbing with warmth when neither Shiro nor Katie moves to let go of him. “My second in command,” he explains softly, just for something to say. “Martek.”  
  
Shiro hums, nodding. Matt squeezes Shiro’s hand and keeps Katie tucked into his other side.

At the front of the group the princess can be heard saying lightly, “It is such an unusual experience for us to be hosted for these kinds of talks. Normally we invite our allies aboard the Castle of Lions.”

Matt wrinkles his nose at that, unseen. In his opinion Voltron is in no position to be issuing invitations to them after plunging into the Coalition’s fight without making contact first.

“I’m sure your castle is a sight to behold, Princess, but we prefer for all allied meetings and negotiations to be hosted here.” Kartok speaks for the first time, in the same steady cadence he always has. But it’s different. Stiffer. Colder?

Matt isn’t sure if he’s imagining it, or if he just knows Kartok that well, but there’s something there. He’s gonna bet it’s the latter of the two, but that doesn’t really do shit to make him feel better about it.

“All?” Allura asks primly.

“Yes,” Kartok nods, walking with Leilani pressed a little closer at his side. “All.” Oh yeah. Definitely colder.

Allura must read something in the tone as well, as her back goes straight, and some tension seeps into all the Paladins, including the two Matt’s got at his sides. Matt tries to catch Zarra’s eye to get some sense, if any, about what’s up with Kartok, but she’s focused on her comm, typing out a message with a tightly furrowed brow.

“How often do you host such meetings? You are… well versed in diplomatic matters?” Matt catches Allura shooting a glance over her shoulder at him as she speaks.

Even Leilani’s voice is less pleasant when they say, “We would be happy to discuss the extent of our alliances once we have reached our meeting room, Princess.”

It’s not a long way to the meeting room, what with the areas around the ship designed as they are. Matt’s always appreciated how easy it is to navigate. But he doesn’t care about that right now, not when arriving at the meeting room means he has to let go of Shiro and his sister.

The other three Commanders lead the way into the room and take their usual places on one side of the large table while the princess installs herself opposite them. Matt sighs, lets go of Shiro’s hand, and starts to pull away from Katie.

“Where are you going?” she asks in sudden panic, gripping him tighter. _Oh Katie._

“Be easy,” Matt murmurs, heart aching at just the wide-eyed, scared look on her face. “I’m just going to the other side of the table.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“I’ve got a job to do, Katie,” Matt is tries to be as gentle as possible. “One that I need to be over there for.”

She bites down hard on her lower lip as it starts to quiver and something twitches weakly in his chest. A long time ago that look would have made him cave instantly to her wishes—he’d always been weak to his baby sister. But now? Now he just feels bad.

“Here, go with Shiro.” Matt eases her off himself and shoos her toward Shiro, who looks like he’s desperately trying to muster up the Black Paladin façade again.

This isn’t going to be easy on any of them, is it?

Shiro offers her a hand and a half-smile. “Come on, Pidge, you know how this works.”

“This is different.” She turns those eyes on Shiro, and Matt already knows that Shiro’s weaker to them than he is.

“It’s not, Katie,” Matt says before Shiro caves, or has to be the bad guy. He hates to be the bad guy. “Go stand with your team. I’m gonna stand with mine.”

He flashes Shiro the ghost of a smile only to watch pain flicker through his eyes again. No doubt realizing what Matt has never not known—they’re not on the same team here. Not yet. Their positions are on opposite sides of this table for a reason, and they have to stay true to that.

Katie looks wounded but she turns away and takes her place, just to the left of the empty chair Shiro will presumably occupy.

Matt turns to join the Commanders, his kin, on the other side of the table. Leilani welcomes him with a smile and reaches out one hand. He doesn’t hesitate to take it, the faintest bit of honey bubbling on the back of his tongue.

As he settles into place between Leilani and Zarra he could almost forget that the people across the table are his sister and his lover. This is where he belongs, with his kin and his fellow Commanders, standing tall and making decisions with them. Even if he can see the sad confusion in Shiro’s eyes when he notices Matt and Leilani’s linked hands.

Matt forces some calm into his chest and looks over the five paladins and their princess, putting on his best disaffected diplomatic smile.

“So,” he says. “Who wants to start?”


	3. Chapter 3

Diplomacy is a tricky thing.

Matt sat in on meetings with allied leaders before taking his command, and he’s been part of so many more since then—yet even after more than a year, he still hasn’t really clicked with it.

He knows it’s necessary and important. The Coalition is diverse and well spread precisely because of diplomatic relationships between various leaders and the Commanders. Mostly that means Leilani and Kartok.

Zarra’s a damn sight better at it than Matt is, but that really isn’t saying much. Not that Matt cares. He’s the tech and infiltration guy. His tolerance for bullshit is way too low these days to deal with some of the people who sit on the other side of the table, them and all their nonsense.

There’s only so much he’s willing to smile pretty for. 

That’s not to say it’s all bad. Matt’s met a lot of really amazing people through these meetings, gained some real friends. He’s also met plenty of assholes he’d be happy to use for target practice. It’s only the threat of Leilani’s disappointment that keeps the urge at bay.

Nine times out of ten the assholes are royalty.

It’s a case-by-case situation. Members of a royal family out of power? They’re usually fine. But the minute someone with a crown and active title walks in the room, that’s it, game over.

Matt knows he’s not alone in that thinking. Zarra feels exactly the same way, and both Leilani and Kartok get suspiciously tight lipped and evasive any time he brings it up. Past experience tells him that means they agree and not they’re willing to say so.

But Matt knows. He _knows_.

Royals all end up being the same. All high and mighty, tutti-frutti, ‘I’m better than you because of insert reason here,’ blah blah blah.

Sitting at the table now, it’s pretty clear it’s happening again.

Princess Allura holds herself with impeccable decorum. She sits across the meeting table with pristine poise and grace, chin held high and hands folded neatly in her lap. She’s lovely to look at, truly she’s beautiful, and when she speaks she does so with an enunciated eloquence and strength to her words.

She’s also clearly very young. In Matt’s limited experience, that never really helps when it comes to negotiating all the finer points and details.

“Princess Allura, I’m not sure that we’re following each other,” Kartok says calmly. He’s settled some since getting in the room, that weird tension fading from his shoulders. Matt’s not sure if whatever it was passed on its own or if it’s the work of Leilani’s hand resting over his wrist.

“I’m not sure where we’re getting lost,” Allura says politely, frowning at Kartok with just her eyes. “We clearly have much to offer, not just us, but our many allies as well—”

“Oh my God,” Matt groans, tired of the back-and-forth already. “I swear if we’re getting stuck in this rut again I’m gonna scream.”

“Matthew,” Leilani chides lightly, while Zarra snickers. “Come now.”

Allura goes stiffer in her chair. “Is there a problem, Commander Holt?” The demand—and it’s definitely a demand judging by the sharpness of her tone—sets Kartok and Zarra both immediately on edge.

“Not if you’ll allow me to be blunt and ask what your exact numbers are.” Matt shrugs. “We’ve been at this for, what, almost an hour already? And you haven’t told us anything.”

“Beg pardon?” Allura frowns.

“How many allies do you have, Princess?” Matt repeats himself, just a touch slower. Instantly he can see how that grates on her nerves. He tries not to smirk. She’s making it too easy.

“The exact numbers are listed in the statistics that Pidge transferred to you.” Allura narrows her eyes just slightly. “It’s a full and comprehensive dataset, Commander.” Her accent clicks a bit sharper. She’s really getting ticked off with him.

If it weren’t for Shiro and his sister sitting across from him now…  Matt resists the urge to roll his eyes and risk _really_ insulting their Princess. “It’s a big file, and it’s running through a translation. I’d like my question answered now if you don’t mind.”

It’s Shiro, not the Princess, who answers him, speaking up for the first time since they all took their seats.  “Fifty-two planets. And a Balmera.”

Matt spares a raised eyebrow for the Balmera and nods. “Okay. Fifty-two. Not too shabby for an operation that’s been running, what, two years, give or take?” Shiro nods. “That’s a good start.”

“A good start?” Allura asks, her eyes sharp as she looks to Matt. He meets her gaze evenly, vaguely amused at how she clearly thinks he owes her any respect. Leaders with greater clout than her have sat across this table and he could barely pretend to care. The only thing different about her is who she’s got flanking her.

“Yes, Princess,” Leilani cuts in smoothly, two of their hands folded serenely in their lap, a mirror to Allura. “No disrespect to you or the Paladins, but your Alliance is young and new. That is all Commander Holt meant.”

Matt shrugs, looking away from the Princess. “I haven’t been here as long as the others, but I know the Coalition’s been around a while and we work with a pretty high volume of recruitment.”

“We are always growing.” Zarra leans back, fingers tapping idly on the arm of her chair. She’s been tense but relatively silent since they sat down, bright eyes trained steadily on Allura.

Allura’s lips go thin. “We have yet to see your numbers, Commanders.”

Shiro and Katie. _Shiro and Katie_. They’re right there, both tense and wound tight, he can’t go outright glaring at their princess and making it all worse.

“Of course, Princess.” Matt drawls, flashes her a smile that’s just coated in finely honed charmed. “Just let me make it pretty for you.” Matt taps in a few selections and projects a star map over the table with a flourish, all the Coalition allies lit up in red. Allura’s eyes go wide.

“That’s just about every ally the Coalition has made in thirteen years,” Matt dryly informs the table at large. “A network of a couple thousand that we maintain and constantly expand. So yeah, I’d say your fifty-two is ‘just a start.’”

“Of course, that number does not currently include the individual colonies and rebel factions that have pledged themselves to us but without officially joining our ranks,” Zarra adds, crossing her arms. “My army is well spread and diverse, Princess Allura. Our reach extends toward all corners of the Universe.”

“That’s amazing,” the blue paladin (Lance? That was what he said, right?) breathes, eyes locked on the star map. He looks awed. “It feels like we’ve been all over, but we haven’t been to any of these places…”

“The Empire has its claws sunk deep,” Kartok says solemnly, his own gaze trained on the map. “We have fought tirelessly for years and years and there is still so much we have yet to even approach.”  
  
“So much left to be done,” Leilani adds gently, fingers lightly trailing over the knobs of Kartok’s knuckles.

“Voltron can help with that,” Shiro says, speaking before Allura again. His voice is steady but the other paladins’ looks hint at something being off. Katie, for her part, hasn’t spoken once. Hell, she’s barely looked up since sitting down and producing familiar-looking glasses to slip on her face. Matt really hopes those aren’t actually his spares from Earth. She’ll fuck up her eyes fooling around with his prescription.

“We hope so,” Leilani nods, smiling right at Shiro. “We have long since heard all of the rumors. You five have sparked a new hope in the hearts of many, and whispers of Voltron will no doubt continue to inspire those who still struggle against the Empire’s hold. Together, I believe we may do endless good.”

Matt shakes his head, smiling. How Leilani has such endless, genuine faith and hope, even after so long fighting this war, he’ll never know.

“That is our hope as well,” Allura speaks up, some of her edges softening after Leilani’s words. “My father… he died for that chance, and we have done and will continue to do everything we must to keep that spirit alive.”

Matt knows he’s not imagining it when Shiro’s shoulders go tighter. Frowning, he finds his fingers curling into fists to quell the itch to reach for him. Leilani’s eyes flicker to Matt and across to Shiro before their focus settles on the group at large.

“I believe we have found a place to rest for the moment.” Leilani smiles, folding their hands together again. “We have not talked long, but your Paladins have come from a fight, Princess, as has one of our Commanders. I believe a break would be much appreciated at this time. Is this acceptable to everyone?”

Kartok nods his agreement with a hum, one of his ears twitching back. Zarra frowns, but doesn’t say anything to protest it. Matt’s honestly just confused.

A break? They don’t need a break. The raid was hardly a taxing experience for him, and he’s willing to bet the Paladins have been through much worse, even if the thought twists his stomach up in knots. He can’t place where the suggestion is coming from… until he considers what they must be feeling, the read they must be getting from everyone in the room.

Maybe from a few people in particular.

Allura doesn’t look particularly happy about the suggestion, but all it takes is a glance at Shiro before her lips purse and she nods. “Yes. I think a break may be in order.”  
  
“Lovely,” Leilani smiles, warm and charming. “Princess, if you are inclined, the Commanders and I would love to show you and any of your paladins who might like to come around the base.”  
  
Matt blinks at that. What? That’s not a thing that usually happens.

Leilani glances over at him with an expectant look and he realizes they’re trying to be subtle.

He clears his throat, looking at the paladins again. “You guys go ahead. I—Katie? Shiro? Could—will you two stay for a minute? I can show you around later if you still want to see the base.”

Katie sits up straight in her chair, wide eyed. Shiro meets Matt’s gaze and he smiles. “Of course,” he says quietly.

“Well, then—Princess, Paladins—if you would accompany us?” Leilani asks with a gracious smile as they rise from their seat, Kartok and Zarra following. Zarra stops by Matt’s chair, fingers brushing his shoulder.  
  
“Join us when you are done,” she murmurs, sparing a glance across the table to Shiro and Katie.

Matt covers her hand with his own. “Be easy. I’ll come find you.”

She nods, doesn’t smile, but her ears flicker once. Matt squeezes her fingers and Zarra pulls away without another word. Kartok meets Matt’s gaze as he passes, dark eyes going softer. Whatever’s going on with him, he’s happy for Matt, that much is clear.

Allura follows the Commanders’ lead, stiffly getting to her feet and heading for the door, the paladins falling in at her back. Shiro smiles at them as they go, waving off murmurs too quiet for Matt to hear clearly. Katie doesn’t move an inch.

Until the door closes, that is. Then Katie’s on her feet, hurrying around the table and straight into Matt’s arms. He catches her with a chuckle, keeping his seat and holding her close. “Missed me?”

“What kind of dumbass question is that?” she demands, eyes glassy with tears again. “Of course I fucking missed you!”

“Language,” Matt chides, grinning. “What kind of talk is that for a Paladin of Voltron?”

“I save the universe daily, I’m allowed to curse,” she mutters as she tucks her face into his shoulder.

Shiro chuckles. “I don’t encourage it, but she kind of has a point.” He watches the two of them carefully from his seat, posture stiffly restrained again.

As Matt rubs a hand over Katie’s back he murmurs to Shiro, “Why are you so far away?”

That seems to hit Shiro like an actual blow. “I…”

“Come here.” Matt holds out a hand toward him. “Shiro, come here.”

He leaves his chair, looking almost shaky, and makes his way around the table. Matt beckons him forward again.

“I’m not gonna bite,” Matt teases. “I mean, unless you want me to.”

Shiro blushes slightly—God, if that isn’t a gorgeous sight—but his steps ease and he finally reaches Matt. “Please don’t do that in front of your sister,” he murmurs, sliding their hands together.

“Seconded,” Katie says, voice muffled. “Don’t be gross. I share a mindspace with him now.”

“I’m a Commander, Kit-Kat, I do what I want,” Matt grins, tucking away the mindspace comment to address another time. 

“Yeah, speaking of, who the hell let that happen?” Katie asks, looking up at him, nose all wrinkled up. “Commander Holt…” She bites her lip. She’s doesn’t need to say that’s their father’s title. Matt already knows. He thinks about it every day.

“You know, I’m not totally sure.” Matt pushes thoughts about Dad away for the moment, saving them for where they belong: late nights in the Hub poring over data with only Martek at his side. He pulls off a laugh that he knows is believable and shakes his head. “As far as I’m aware the other Commanders actually want me here, believe it or not. Apparently fucking around in the Hub and basically being a human cockroach was enough to get their attention at the start of things.”

“Matt…” Shiro murmurs. “What happened to you? Where’d they take you after the arena, how’d you get here?”

“That’s a lot to go over.” Matt sighs. He shifts in his chair, dislodging Katie a bit in his arms. “Best to take a seat, Katie-cat. When I said it was a long story, I wasn’t being dramatic. We’ve got about three years to cover here.”

She glances back to her meeting chair but Matt shakes his head and nudges her toward the one next to him, then pulls an extra one to his other side for Shiro. “Settle in, kids.”

They share an apprehensive look but take their indicated seats, both nervous, both watching him intently.

“You told her what happened, right?” Matt asks Shiro first. “How we got separated?”

“Yes,” Shiro nods, eyes already shuttering. Matt’s seen that look in too many of his soldiers, in Kartok and Zarra, and he knows better than to let it go ignored. He snaps his fingers to catch and keep Shiro’s attention.

“Stay with me, handsome. Can’t lose you before we even start the story.” Matt holds Shiro’s gaze and offers a smile. Shiro nods, slow and uncertain, shakily returning the smile. Matt’s itching to reach for him, but he doesn’t know if that would help right now. “Alright. So we got separated. I was shipped off to a prison colony and ended back up with Dad for a while.”

Katie almost perks up at that, and the way the hope rises in her eyes and then immediately dies kills Matt a little bit. “For a while?” she whispers. “Not… Not now?”

“He got transferred somewhere else.” Matt leans forward on his knees, dropping his gaze to the floor. “I don’t know where, and for the life of me I can’t get information on him. Every bit of data I get, from all corners of the universe, all our allies, I look for him but I still don’t know where he is, Katie.” He shakes his head, swallowing hard against the building lump in his throat. “I’m sorry.”

She bites on her lower lip, hard enough that her skin blanches where her teeth dig in, and reaches for one of Matt’s hands. “I’m looking too,” she whispers. “Always. We’ll find him.”

“Yeah,” Matt nods, flipping his hand under hers and squeezing. “‘Course we will.” He smiles and she smiles back, both sad little things that quiver and threaten to fail. The sudden warm press of Shiro’s hand on Matt’s back definitely isn’t helping. “I, uh—” Matt clears his throat. “After that, after Dad, I kind of co-led a rebellion in the prison. Got the prisoners working together to take control and get rid of all the guards and drones on planet.”

“Got rid of them?” Shiro asks quietly.

“Yeah.” Matt meets Shiro’s gaze head on, and is surprised to find not shock or horror as he almost expects, but instead acceptance, and understanding. Shiro nods, his mouth set in a hard, thin line. Oh, he understands all too well what Matt means.

That shouldn’t be as comforting as it is.

“I got ready to pack up and leave after that. Had to try to find Dad, and just get away. That’s when the Coalition showed up.” He shakes his head, huffing a laugh. “Scared the shit out of us, showing up in an Empire cruiser. I joined up with them after meeting with the Commanders, where I got a promise I could use their resources to keep looking for Dad. Didn’t take too long for me to get my hands in some tech and start tweaking as much as they’d let me. Which turned out to be a lot in the end, and eventually I ended up where I am now.”

“And what—” Katie starts, before abruptly stopping herself. She bites her lip again, and clears her throat. “When… what happened with your… your….”

“My legs?” Matt asks, arching a single brow her way. Katie pales and blinks at him from behind her frames, but she nods. “Prison. A bit before Dad got sent away.” He doesn’t say anything else on the matter, and he’s not going to. They don’t need to know that story. “It’s been years now. To be honest, I kind of forget I even have them.”

He makes the mistake of glancing over at Shiro and gets a knife to his heart from the deep-seated pain in his love’s eyes. Matt swallows back the words of comfort that want to rise to his lips. The legs are part of him now—they have been for a long time. He’s not gonna sit here and lie about his life. Not ever, but especially not to them.

“I’m okay,” Matt says, as gently as he can manage. “They don’t hurt or anything, not anymore, and—”

“They hurt?” Katie asks, eyes going wider. “Matt…”

“Well… yeah, they used to hurt.” Matt frowns. “I was a prisoner, Katie, I wasn’t exactly getting state-of-the-art medical attention. I was lucky I got what I did, it was a damn sight better than I could have expected. Leilani healed me up pretty much as soon as they met me, and now they don’t bother me at all. They’re just… mine.”

Katie’s eyes have gone glassy, like she’s about to cry again, but instead she just nods, holding herself together. Barely. Oh Katie. 

Matt sighs and tugs gently on her hand. That’s really all it takes to get her vaulting out of her chair and back into his arms once more.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles against his shirt. “I’m sorry Matt. I’m sorry we couldn’t find you and I’m sorry you’re here and that you had to deal with this!”

“You’re not the one who threw me in chains, Kitten,” Matt murmurs, holding her close. “I’m alright, okay? More than alright, I’m really good. I’ve been lucky, I had someone looking out for me there, and now I’m here.” He pulls back enough that he can get a hand cupped under his sister’s quivering chin. “And so are you.”

“Yeah,” she whispers, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes when she blinks at him. “I’m here. And you’re… you’re really okay.”  
  
“As okay as you could be.” The murmur from Shiro is so quiet Matt honestly doesn’t think he meant to say it. He chances a glance to his other side and catches Shiro looking heartbreakingly dejected. Matt sighs.

“Look. I’m not gonna try to convince you that everything was, or still is, sunshine and rainbows, alright?” He waits until he has Shiro’s eyes locked with his own. “I got out of it alright, and I’m still alright now. Hell, I’m a Commander of an intergalactic rebel group. Basically living nine-year-old Matt’s dreams, right?” Matt grins down at Katie. “All that’s missing is the lightsabers.”

That gets her to laugh, a shaky, watery little thing, but a laugh all the same. Progress.

Matt hugs her tight again, one arm curled securely around her back. He reaches for Shiro with his other hand, catching the prosthetic fingers and holding on tight. Shiro goes still, but he doesn’t say a single word. 

How long they sit there, the three of them bound together in silence, holding on for dear life, he doesn’t know, but it’s Katie who breaks the embrace first.

“Haven’t cried this much in years,” she mutters, wiping at her eyes. “Shit, the guys are never going to shut up about this.”

“They’re not going to tease you,” Shiro says gently, smiling at her. There’s a familiarity there that speaks of more than just being comfortable with a partner’s family member. Matt wonders exactly what made that happen. Shiro reaches over Matt to take Katie’s hand with comfortable ease. “Not over this, Pidge.”

“Have you not met Lance?” She huffs a soft laugh, achingly fond while she shakes her head.

“You know, I have.” Shiro chuckles. “And you know that he of all people knows how important it was for you to find Matt and how much you wanted this.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Katie shrugs, squeezing Shiro’s hand and then dropping it. “I’ll just tase him if he says anything.”

“Or I could take care of it,” Matt suggests, looking between them both. It’s weird, witnessing this new sort of... intimacy between them, but it’s kind of nice too. He flashes them both a grin. “I don’t know if you noticed when you crashed my mission, but I can kind of kick some ass now.”

"You did pin Shiro,” Katie allows, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “That’s not an easy thing to do. Keith’s the only one of us who ever gets close enough on his own.” 

“Shiro let me do that.” Matt rolls his eyes. “I’m under no delusions that I’m stronger than you, Takashi. I’m just saying I’m not the wet noodle I used to be.”

“I didn’t let you do anything.” The smallest crease appears between Shiro’s brows, just barely visible under the fan of that white fringe of his. “You caught me off guard, and that’s why you got the upper hand, but you pinned me there, Matt.”

“Huh.” Matt blinks. “Cool. Could never do that before. We weren’t even in the same sparring weight class at school.”

“We wouldn’t have been allowed to partner even if we had been.” Shiro leans back in his chair. “Iverson never got over the fact we were dating, and he wasn’t going to risk us goofing off in class.”

“Only reason we ended up going to Kerberos together was because of Dad.” Matt grins over at Shiro. “Skill aside, you know they were anxious about the fraternization bullshit. Iverson and the rest of the board thought he’d be good chaperone, and that you’d be too self-conscious to do anything in front of your commanding officer.”

“Meanwhile your father’s one who insisted we take some free time to try and have little dates,” Shiro laughs, his eyes crinkling up. “Better hope none of that ended up in mission logs.”

“Like we did anything but play cards! Not for lack of trying on my part, mind you.” Matt leans toward Shiro with a grin. He’s not sure if he imagines the faint spots of color that darken Shiro’s cheeks, but he knows that the warmth that swells in his own chest is all too real. “Do you remember that, Shiro?”

“Yeah.” Shiro meets Matt’s eyes evenly, a different kind of smile pulling at his lips. He takes Matt’s hand, the rough pad of his glove smoothing over Matt’s scarred knuckles, achingly tender. “I remember.”

“Hi, yeah, I’m still here.” Katie waves a hand in the air to flag their attention from each other, thoroughly smashing through the intensity of the moment. Damn her.

“Unfortunately,” Matt mutters. “Brat.”

“You can call me names, or you can make sure I’m not here for much longer.” Katie shrugs. “I think I’d like to go track everyone else down, and I really don’t want to stick around and infringe on boyfriend reunion time.”

“Boyfriend reun—Pidge!”

“I am neither deaf nor dumb, Shiro. I can read the subtext of the room.” She adjusts the fit of her glasses again.

Shiro sighs, and murmurs her name—well no, he murmurs “Pidge”—and Matt rolls his eyes. He reaches forward to hit a button on the table. Immediately a call connects to !oshi’s direct line, and their soft, airy voice fills the room. “Yes Commander?”

“Hey. You anywhere near the meeting room?”

“Yes sir. Commander Kartok informed me of your private meeting with the paladins. I can be at the door in a moment if you have need of me.”  
  
“You’re the best,” Matt grins. “Can you bring my sister—the Green Paladin, that is—to wherever everyone is on Leilani’s tour?”

“Of course Commander. I shall be there soon.” The call disconnects and Matt sits back. Both Shiro and Katie watch him with odd, near identical looks in their eyes. “What?”

“That was weird.” Katie’s nose wrinkles up. “People listen to you.”

“A lot of people,” Matt confirms, nodding. “It’s kind of a thing. You get used to it.”

“Yeah, okay.” Katie snorts, as ladylike as Matt ever remembers her being, and pulls up a holoscreen from her wrist. It glows a faint blue, so different from everything Matt has access to at his own fingertips. She opens a messenger application and types up something quick, wrinkling her nose again.

“A wrist communicator?” Matt hums, curious. “Did you put that together?”

“Augmented it,” Katie says brightly. “The paladin armor comes with an interface built in but I remapped and reconstructed the same kind of holo tech you find integrated with almost all the computer systems out here.”

Matt holds up his own comm to show her, revamped and redesigned just a few weeks earlier. “Convergent Holt evolution. We could take over the universe.”

Shiro snorts. “Just what we need.”

“Shut up, Shirogane. You love us,” Matt laughs. A brief stylized knock cuts across the sound before the door hisses open. !oshi’s willowy frame slips into the room with a small, polite smile.

“Commander Holt. Paladins.” They dip their head in greeting, big dark eyes fluttering closed and then popping back open again a moment later. Matt stands, smiling.

“Guys, this is !oshi. Kartok’s second-in-command and the only reason the base even functions.” Greetings get passed around with polite smiles, and Katie turns to Matt with a smaller smile.

“See you later?”

“‘Course.” Matt grins, pulling her in for a quick hug. “You’re on my base after all.”

“Ass,” she mutters, hugging him tightly. Her glasses are crooked when she pulls away, sitting cockeyed on her nose from being squashed against his chest. Matt fixes them with a chuckle before letting her step away.

Katie follows !oshi from the room with a new bounce in her step. Matt has to laugh as the door slips shut behind them.

“Well, she seems to be feeling better now that—”

“I do, you know.” Shiro cuts him off, soft, barely more than a hoarse whisper. Matt goes still before turning back to him.

“What?”

“I do,” Shiro says again. “Love you.” He’s not looking at his lap anymore, eyes meeting Matt’s dead on. “I still love you. Always have.”

That knocks all the breath right out of Matt’s lungs. “A little delayed there, Shiro,” he murmurs. He feels the pull of a smile at his lips. “I love you too.”

Hearing those words aloud shouldn’t hurt as much as they do. It’s been too long, they have to be pulled from some long-collapsed cavity of his chest. Shiro doesn’t care. His smile steadies, and his eyes, those damn eyes Matt has seen only in his dreams for years, light up with a familiar spark of happiness. With love.

“I wasn’t sure…” Shiro’s hands curl loosely on his lap. “So much has changed… we’re not who we were before.” It’s funny because that ‘we’re’ sounds more like ‘I’m’ and there’s an unspoken question Matt isn’t supposed to hear. _How can you love me, can’t you see how I’ve changed?_

_Has everything changed?_

Words flood and fail on his tongue and Matt can think of only one way to answer the questions Shiro will never ask, the ones that shouldn’t even cross his mind. He’s up and out of his chair, reaching for Shiro and pulling him in for a desperately awaited kiss.

Shiro makes a noise of surprise but melts into it, one hand immediately sliding into Matt’s hair to hold him there. He meets Matt with equal fire and desperation and despite the kiss being a surprise, he’s the one to deepen it. Matt melts against him as three years’ worth of tension uncoils from his spine, transforming into what feels like liquid gold in his veins.

Is it possible for a heart to race and stop at the same time?

“Matt,” Shiro murmurs against his lips, breaking the kiss and Matt doesn’t try to swallow the soft noise of protest that he makes. “Matt, wait—”

“Shut up,” Matt growls. His fingers curl tight at the base of Shiro’s neck, jammed up against the hard lip of his armor. “Shut up, shut up and kiss me Shiro!”

Shiro laughs, breathless and soft, and there has to be a God because he actually listens, kissing Matt soundly. He pulls him in, teeth nipping his lower lip, a tongue soothing the bite.

Matt chases it with a quiet moan and wishes there were any acceptable way to abandon a diplomatic meeting for a quickie. Not that that’s what he really wants with Shiro. No, after almost three years apart, what he wants is to strip him down and take him apart piece by piece, learning all the ways he’s changed and the ways he thinks he’s changed, figuring out what Shiro needs now. What Matt needs now. What they need from each other and how they fit together with these new bodies, new minds.

But there’s no time for that at the moment.

Matt pulls away, all but panting for breath, and rests their foreheads together. “I love you, Takashi,” he murmurs.

“I love you too,” Shiro breathes back. “But—Matt, we—we have to talk about this.”

“About what? I still love you, you love me. Bang, boom, happy ending.” Matt would give anything for it it to be that simple. It isn’t, and they’re both all aware of that fact. But he wants to pretend, just for this moment, that this is simple and that they can just be happy and that that’s it.

“Loving you was a given,” Shiro laughs softly, closing his eyes. “I could never stop, Matt.”

“And I could? You were already my boyfriend when you went and added _hero_ and _martyr_ to the running list of titles after your name. If I hadn’t loved you already that would have done it.” Matt lets one hand trail from Shiro’s neck, down his chest. The armor is cool and hard under his touch. Matt wants it gone, wants to feel Shiro’s heart beating under his fingertips, pounding away the same as his own.

“I didn’t know if you would.” The admission falls from Shiro’s lips like it pains him. “When we got separated in the arena, I—I hurt you.” Shiro opens his eyes and Matt goes breathless at the raw guilt and pain he sees. “I hurt you, and then I—”

“You saved me.” Matt’s fingers curl against Shiro’s armor. “There was no way I would have survived in the arena then, and frankly, with what I know about it, I don’t know how _you_ did. You saved me and… I thought you were dead.”

“I wasn’t,” Shiro whispers, eyes wide. “I’m not.”

“No shit.” Matt’s laugh dies on his lips at the pulsating pain on Shiro’s face. “Look, I… I can’t believe I got you back. You came back to me. And I love you, and that’s all I fucking care about right now. So what do we need to talk about?” He swallows back all the answers he already has to that question.

“Where to start?” Shiro pulls away from him, his hand falling from Matt’s hair, taking his hand instead. “I don’t—There’s too much. Voltron and this Coalition, these Commanders—”

“I’m one of those Commanders,” Matt reminds him, his brow quirking up. “Just in case you forgot.”

Shiro shakes his head. “Yeah, no, I didn’t forget. This is just… a lot. And I have a feeling we’re not gonna get through it before everyone comes back.”

“Okay, then fuck that, we’ll talk about it later and kiss now.”

“Matt!”

“What?” He raises both eyebrows. “You just said yourself we don’t have time for this talk now. Rather than sit here making awkward small talk, I’d prefer to enjoy myself kissing my—” His throat closes up. What does he call Shiro now? Is he still Matt’s boyfriend?

“Matt?” Shiro frowns. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know what to call you,” he admits with a shaky grin. “I had a whole list of names once, but now…”

“Yeah,” Shiro sighs, his gaze dropping momentarily. “That was… that’s one thing we need to talk about. Among others. It’s been a long time, Matt.”

“Almost three years.”

“I still love you, though—”

“Then still be my fucking boyfriend, Takashi,” Matt says bluntly. “Let’s just nip that one in the bud. Work for you?

Shiro stares for a handful of heartbeats, just blinking at him. Matt’s starting to get a little nervous when Shiro smiles. It’s a small thing, so much smaller than he remembers that smile ever being, but the warmth there—the naked fondness—is so familiar it hurts.

“Yeah,” he says, very softly. “Yeah, that works.”

An unexpected wave of relief washes through Matt and without a second thought he presses up to kiss Shiro again.

This time Shiro is the one who melts, tension falling off him like a wave, and his hands fall to Matt’s waist, immediately pulling him closer. He can’t help but laugh against his lips.

“Just like old times,” Matt murmurs, his hands framing and curling at Shiro’s jaw. “You’re weak for kisses, Shirogane.”

“Only when they’re yours,” Shiro breathes back.

“You been kissing anyone else recently?” Matt teases. He taps his fingers lightly against Shiro’s cheek.

Shiro chuckles, brushing one hand through Matt’s hair. “No, no kissing. Not since the last time I saw you.” He swallows and Matt knows they’re remembering the same moment in that overcrowded cell.

“Hey,” Matt soothes. “You’re here now. We’re both here, no more of that. Never again.”

Every kiss gets easier, more familiar, and softer until they’re just bare presses of lips interspersed with gentle sighs.

“I love you,” Shiro whispers again.

“I love you, too.” Matt knows his smile is soft and fond, knows its _Shiro’s_ smile, something that lived on his lips near permanently once a upon a time.

Shiro kisses that smile and pulls Matt close once more, hands framing his face and keeping him close. Matt’s smile only widens, his arms slipping around Shiro’s neck. He winds them together, so that even when the kiss breaks, they’re pressed chest to chest, as close as they can get.

“Why’d you stop?” Matt murmurs, nosing against Shiro’s cheek.

“We’ve been gone from the others for a while,” Shiro breathes back. One hand leaves Matt’s face to press at his back instead. “We should probably go and find them. That tour can’t last much longer.”

“The tour doesn’t really exist.” Matt laughs softly. “It’s just an excuse to give me some time with you.”

“What?”

“Leilani likes to meddle. They spent the entire meeting tasting how badly I wanted to talk to you and Katie, so they made it happen. It’s a very Leilani thing to do.”

Shiro blinks. “They… _what?_ ”

“Look, I could explain, or we could go back to kissing. Your choice, Takashi.” Matt leans up on his toes, his legs whirring quietly. He knows he’s taller than he was last time they could be like this, only an inch or two between his height and Shiro’s now. Matt loves it.

“The others…” Shiro bites his lip. The choices war openly in his eyes, the need to be responsible battling against how badly he wants to stay and be with Matt. Matt smiles and kisses him, eager to sway his decision.

Shiro sighs into the kiss, melting, caving, giving in. The hand on his face slips into his hair, the one on his back presses tighter against his armor.

Damn good choice.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s crazy how nice something simple can feel. 

There’s a lot about Matt’s life that is crazy and fantastic and downright insane. He loves it, every bit of it, but damn does it make him really appreciate the quieter moments when he finds them. 

Moments with kin, Leilani’s sweetness dancing on his tongue, the soft hum of Zarra’s purr, and the warmth of Kartok’s smile. Moments in the Hub, hassling Martek and teasing Jion, watching his team grow and flourish and amaze him every day. Moments on his own, looking out into the vast beauty of the universe, staring until the diamond pinpricks of stars burn themselves on the inside of his eyelids. 

Moments like this one, holding Shiro’s hand and walking with him through the base. 

It feels too normal to do this with him, too familiar. Almost like they haven’t just been reunited, brought together with desperation and sweetness and yearning long guarded. They lingered together until the last possible second, kisses traded between words, hands never straying for more than a moment. 

Matt told Shiro and Katie his story, as much as he was willing to share, and Shiro shared in turn. Through low murmurs and kisses Matt learned how Shiro survived the arena. How he fought, returned to Earth, found the lions, found Voltron, bonded with the other Paladins—his teammates—by sharing souls, hearts, and minds. He learned about the slower curl of Shiro’s smile, the disbelief embedded in his happiness, the new twitch in his fingers, prosthetic and natural both, when Matt shifted even a centimeter away. 

Matt kissed that smile, held Shiro tighter, murmured his love into the crook of his neck, like repetition alone would be enough to tattoo the feeling to his skin. It was barely anything, but it made Shiro beam. 

That feels so far away now as they approach the training deck. Matt squeezes Shiro’s hand. “You ready to rejoin society?” he teases. 

“I don’t think we really have a choice.” Shiro smiles softly, raising their joined hands, brushing the lightest of kisses to Matt’s knuckles. 

Matt grins, heart flipping with fond love and awe. How the hell is this real? “Gonna make me swoon, Shiro. That’s not exactly a good look for me as a Commander.”

“Aw rats.” Shiro kisses the same spot, lingering for a second longer. His eyes sparkle and shine, with the faintest beginning of smile lines crinkling up the corners. “I’ll have to be more careful about that. You sure you’re not too cool to date me now?”

“Hate to say it, but I’ve always been too cool for you, baby,” Matt smirks. “But I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon. You’re stuck with me, Takashi.”

“You won’t hear me complaining.” Shiro tugs on Matt’s hand, gentle, yet with enough force to make Matt stop in his tracks a few paces from the training deck doors. Matt goes willingly, grinning when Shiro pulls him close, leaning up to meet him for a kiss. 

Shiro smiles against his lips. Matt swears a sweetness floods his mouth, not too different from the taste of Leilani’s joy. 

Matt breaks the kiss before Shiro has a chance to, resting a hand against his chest. “Come on,” he murmurs, drumming his fingers against the paladin chestplate. “You’re the one who convinced me it was time to go looking for the others.”

“Why the hell did I do that?” Shiro whispers back. His grip on Matt’s hand tightens just a bit. Matt laughs, muffling the sound against his boyfriend’s— _ boyfriend! _ —mouth with one last kiss before putting some distance between them. 

“Something about responsibility, I don’t know. I was a little distracted when you started listing your reasons, after all.” Matt grins while pressing his free hand against the door’s panel. He turns away just enough so he can be the one to tug Shiro onto the training deck. 

The don’t get more than two steps in before a swell of tension washes over them, tension with a strong undertow of anxiety. 

Everyone is there, just as Martek had said when Matt called to find out where to track them down, and all awkwardly arranged into a weird sort of crescent shape. Allura stands with her paladins at her back, just slightly in front of them all. She stands tall and stiff and Matt can’t see her face but he’s gonna bet that as pretty as she is, she’s not looking too happy, just from the tension holding her shoulders so straight.    
  
What Matt  _ can _ see is Zarra, looking pissed. Her ears are pressed back against her head, eyes narrowed and dark. She stands next to Ortraz—no. In front of him. It’s a protective stance, a laughable thought as Ortraz is literally double Zarra’s size in any direction you look at him, but it’s a also a familiar one. Leilani and Kartok are centered just between Zarra and Allura and Leilani might be smiling, as pleasant and lovely as ever, but Kartok’s gone tense again and it’s clear no one is pleased. 

Shiro frowns, his grip tightening quickly on Matt’s hand again before immediately loosening, nearly slipping away entirely. Matt blinks. Okay, what the actual fuck?

Outside of covert ops, he’s never been subtle, and he’s sure as hell not gonna start now. “What’s going on?” he asks, frowning as he steps forward. Shiro follows, the remaining tether of their barely tangled fingers just enough to give Matt a grounding force.

Allura turns away from the scene, poised to answer, but Leilani manages to speak first.

“Holt.” They smile, threading two arms around one of Kartok’s burly biceps. “Wonderful timing. We were just introducing our guests to some of our key members.” They smile graciously up at Ortraz, who Matt can see is definitely tense and uncomfortable. Zarra scowls and winds her arms tightly over her chest. 

“Okay…” Matt says slowly. That explains almost nothing. 

“Shiro,” Allura says, smiling now herself. It sits wrong on her lips, not necessarily fake, but definitely not genuine. More uncomfortable than anything. “Come meet Commander Zarra’s associate.”

“Associate.” The word rolls off Matt’s tongue, chased by a sharp bark of a laugh. “Ortraz, buddy, did you get a demotion?”

“No sir.” Ortraz’s hands fold together behind his back, his expression flat and careful. Zarra’s hands curl tightly around her forearms. 

Shiro’s brow furrows. He glances first to Matt and then back at Allura, lingering at Matt’s side for a heartbeat or two before he drops their hands and moves to rejoin the Princess and the weirdly silent paladins. Matt catches Katie’s eye from across the space, noting how close she’s currently standing to Keith, her tiny frame tilted up into his space, and the fading indents in her lower lip, clearly left by her teeth in a fit of anxiety driven chewing. She shrugs at him, a jerky motion that tells him nothing, but would betray her tension even if he wasn’t able to read the tension on her already. 

Seriously, what did they miss?

“It’s nice to meet you.” Shiro steps up past Allura with his hand outstretched toward Ortraz, a smile sitting easy on his lips. It’s a genuine, open gesture, and the way that Shiro has his palm turned on an angle speaks of how he’s familiar with a typical Galran gesture of meeting someone with respect. Ortraz does not hesitate to step up, moving easy around Zarra, grasping Shiro’s arm with his fingers curling carefully around his forearm.    
  
“You as well, Black Paladin,” Ortraz rumbles with a dip of his head.

“Please, call me Shiro.” Shiro smiles. “Ortraz, was it?”

“Yes.” 

“I believe it is time we return to the meeting room.” Kartok’s voice sits low in the suggestion, and it rings more as a command than anything else. “Is that agreeable to you, Princess?”

“Please,” Allura says, nodding. Her tone is not quite curt, but there’s that edge of sharpness to her accent from before.     
  
“Let us be off then.” Leilani extends a hand toward the door Matt and Shiro just entered through. They step up to lead the way out with Kartok, stopping only to cup a hand to Matt’s cheek as they pass him, a softer smile washing over him with an edge of citrus on his tongue. Matt smiles, but he doesn’t follow them out. He’d been able to read Katie after all this time, and reading Zarra is even easier. He moves toward her as everyone else heads in the opposite direction with a low buzz of conversation Matt can’t hear and can’t be bothered to listen to, not when Zarra looks wound tight enough to snap.    
  
Shiro’s eyes follow his path to Zarra, a small crease back between his brows. Matt waves him off with a small, distracted sort of smile, his focus already shifting fully to his kin.    
  
“What’d I miss?” Matt murmurs, pressing close into her space. He pries one hand from the tangle of her limbs. “You’re all scowly and tense.”

“The Princess,” she spits. “She—”

“Commander, please.” Oh, Matt knows that tone from Ortraz all too well. It’s the self-sacrificing, I’ll-take-the-chipped-cup voice and Matt’s not having it.

He frowns up at Ortraz. “What’d she do?” Matt narrows his eyes. “What’d she say?”

“It is nothing that warrants addressing, Commander—”

“Stop that,” Zarra snaps at Ortraz. “She insulted you, and therefore she insulted me. High-and-mighty bitch—”

“Woah, woah! Hold on, what happened?” Matt glances over his shoulder, hoping for the sake of keeping tensions at a manageable level that Allura and the paladins are far enough away for that to have gone unheard. The last of them, Yellow—Hunk—is just stepping into the hallway. Matt breathes out a sigh, curling his fingers tighter around Zarra’s. 

“The look on her face when she saw Ortraz leading a training exercise,” Zarra growls. “And how poorly she covered it up with surprise, and bullshit fucking—”

“I should definitely not have taught you Earth curses,” Matt mutters, shaking his head. “Be easy, Z. Take a breath, alright? You being this pissed isn’t doing anything to tell me what Princess Stick-up-her-ass did.

That gets a laugh out of her, a soft huff, and just a millimeter of tension seeps out of her shoulders. 

“She made a  _ comment _ ,” she mutters. “About how ‘interesting’ it is that we ‘let all types’ join our ranks, and asked what our ‘criteria’ are for making promotions—she questioned my command, Holt!” The last phrase comes out as a hiss.

“Okay, as much as I’m on the ‘Let’s be skeptical of Allura’ train, I highly doubt she questioned your command outright.” He takes another step closer into her space, lightly cupping a hand under her chin, fitting his palm to her jaw. Only Ortraz is around, so Matt feels completely comfortable engaging in this usually private show of intimacy. He knows Zarra needs it right now, the way she leans into the touch with a sigh enough to prove that. 

“She did,” Zarra insists. Her voice drops in pitch, the tightness in her shoulders melting away. “Maybe not in so many words…”

“Is this one of those moments where Leilani would call you sensitive?” 

“I am not being sensitive!” This comes as a snap, her eyes flashing. “I know what she was thinking with the way she looked at Ortraz when I informed her of his position at my side! Do you want to know how?”   
  
“Leilani?”   
  
“Such bitterness only coats my tongue when they feel distaste in kind from another.” A low growl starts up from Zarra’s chest. Matt sighs, squeezing her hand tight as he raises it so he can brush a kiss to the darkest point of the scars that mark her wrists. The growl quiets, and Zarra sighs. “I know I should not be surprised any longer but…”    
  
“I know,” Matt murmurs. “Most people have the same attitude against Galrans, but that doesn’t mean it sucks any less when you come across it.” He shakes his head, looking up at Ortraz. “You good?”

A stiff nod. “Yes, Commander.”

“And you know that you’re important to us and the Coalition, and that as far as I can tell so far, she’s nothing without the Paladins at her back?”    
  
“Commander—”   
  
“Answer the question, Ortraz.” 

Ortraz sighs. “Yes, Commander. I am aware of my position.” 

“Then knock the gloomier-than-usual look off your face.” Matt smirks. “Fuck what she thinks. Come with us back to the meeting room. I don’t have Martek, he’s running a data breakdown, and you should know what’s going on anyway.”

“Commander, unless there are troop changes expected, you know I am not typically asked—”

“Oh I’m sorry. Did I stutter?” Matt drops Ortraz’s arm and raises an eyebrow. “I want you in that meeting.”

Ortraz sighs again. “Yes, Commander.” There’s the smallest shadow of a smile hinting at his mouth now. Matt takes that as a small triumph, and confirmation enough that they’re good to move on. 

“Come on.” Tangling his fingers with Zarra is as familiar an action to him as breathing, as is the huff she gives him. 

“You’re ordering around my second,” Zarra murmurs, wrinkling her nose, even as she lets him tug her to the door and take lead on their delayed trek back to the meeting. Ortraz’s soft, heavy footsteps follow at their back.   
  
“Well you sure as shit weren’t doing anything constructive.” Matt glances down at her. He knows the smile that tugs at his lips is still more of a smirk, confirmed when Zarra rolls her eyes at him. 

“Can we drop this for now?” she asks dryly.

“Like you’d drop it if it was me in a mood.” Matt laughs, squeezing her hand, and abandoning the topic all the same. They fall into silence, familiar, easy, and not dissimilar to how he and Shiro had walked down to the deck only minutes before. They’re more than halfway there when Matt thinks to ask, “Is everything okay with Kartok?”

Zarra sighs. Her shoulders curl forward and her eyes tinge toward sad. “It has been one of his bad days.”

“Shit.” Matt frowns. “His headaches acting up?”

“It started while you were on your mission. Stress always triggers it, but it was not overwhelming to start. He promised to let Leilani soothe him once you had returned, but then Voltron, the confusion with your paladin…” Zarra huffs. “Princess Allura certainly has not helped matters.”

“Yeah…” Matt sighs, carding a hand through his hair. Kartok doesn’t like to be out of it when they have outsiders on board. Leilani’s healing touch for his chronic migraines is instant and soothing, but it leaves Kartok misty-eyed and sluggish for hours after. Not really the best situation while negotiating alliances. 

Zarra shifts the grip on their hands, her thumb curling higher on the back of Matt’s hand. “He will be alright,” she murmurs. Matt hums, nodding, but still worried. They fall back to their easy silence. It continues this time until they’re nearly at the meeting room. 

Zarra glances up at him and stops them in the hall. Ortraz stops as well, a few paces back with his attention diverting away smoothly. “I did not get to ask before. How was your time with your paladins?”

“It was good,” Matt hums, smiling. “We got to talk a bit, all together and then just me and Shiro. I…” He huffs a laughs, shaking his head. “I can’t believe they’re here. That this is really… you know, real.”

“I am glad that it is.” Zarra holds on tighter to his hand, smiling herself. It’s that soft one, the one she saves for kin, for him. “You were so distraught before… it pained me to see you so, Amatus.”

Warmth immediately floods Matt’s chest at the word. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, lifting their linked hands, brushing a familiar and easy kiss to her knuckles. “I couldn’t help it. All this time I was so sure I’d lost him… I went straight to anger and denial because I didn’t think it was possible.” 

“I know. I know how it feels. You do not need to apologize to me.” Her smile slips a bit with sadness, but she doesn’t let the look linger. “I am so happy for you, Matthew. And I look forward to knowing them when we get this whole thing settled.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Matt smiles. “I—I really want that, Z.” 

It’s Zarra’s turn to raise their hands, pressing a kiss right against the pulse point on Matt’s wrist before before she presses her free hand to the door’s keypad.

“Ah, there are our missing Commanders!” Leilani greets them cheerfully as they step inside. “And Ortraz! Lovely. Shall we resume our discussions now that we are all gathered again?”

“Happy to.” Matt flashes a grin, squeezes Zarra’s fingers before letting go. She brushes her shoulder against him gently as she heads first to her seat, locking eyes with Ortraz as he moves to stand in his usual place along the wall of the room. Matt swallows against a wave of sourness at the way Allura’s eyes flicker to track the movement. 

“Come, Matthew,” Leilani offers a hand in his direction. “I believe a discussion concerning your technology and communications systems are in order. We did not get a chance to stop by the Hub, but you are here now and that is even better!”

“Yeah, perfect.” Kartok has prepped the usual presentation materials and Matt is about to settle into the accompanying spiel when he’s caught in Shiro’s eyes. More specifically in the edge of confusion Shiro aimed right at him.

Matt barely catches the frown that threatens to cross his lips. He can’t even begin to piece together where that came from, and he doesn’t really have time to. Matt needs to focus; it’s time to work now. 

“Well, uhh… well.” Matt swallows and wrenches his gaze away from Shiro, reaching for a mask of professional indifference for the moment. “Our systems were rebuilt about a year and a half ago and we keep them constantly updated, so we’ll need to do a compatibility check to see what kind of changes to either of our systems might be necessary.”

“Pidge is the person to talk to about that,” Hunk supplies with a grin, leaning toward the table and the projected statistics with interest shining bright and clear in his eyes. 

Katie perks up in her seat, smiling at her brother. “Yeah! I handle pretty much all the information-based things. What do you need?”

“Can you drop me a systems diagnostic overview? I can go ahead and give it a scan to try and see what we’ll need.”

“Yeah, that’s easy.” She pulls up a screen from her bracer and quickly finds the file, swiping it off to Matt through the same frequency the other, much larger data packet came through before.  

It’s only a moment before his own comm pings with the incoming data. Matt goes ahead and throws her file right up on the screen, frowning as soon it’s up. He squints at the unfamiliar characters.

“Forgot you guys aren’t using the same writing system,” Matt mutters. “I’ll have to run this through the same engine as the other stuff you sent me.” It’s not something that takes a lot of work or effort, and it shouldn’t take as long as the first one, which is still processing, so he starts that while asking, “What language is this, anyway? I’ve never come across it before.”

“Anything you get that’s from my personal files will be in English, that comes from my laptop,” Katie—he should probably start referring to her as Pidge like her friends—says with a smile. “But the official data and diagnostics are from the castle’s databases, so it’ll be in Altean.”

Matt can’t quite control the way his head snaps up and his entire body goes still.

Zarra’s voice comes to him, a memory from so long ago.  _ The Alteans were the last to hold Voltron.  _ With it comes the panic of the realization that followed. 

Altean. 

The Witch. 

Haggar.

_ Oh _ .

Matt glances at Kartok, finally understanding the stiffness he’s been carrying around beyond his usual headache mood and the sourness that’s started churning in his own gut. Haggar’s face flashes in Matt’s mind and he swears he sees Leilani almost flinch from the sweep of emotions that rip their way through him. 

“Matt?” 

He blinks at his sister. “What?”

“Are… are you okay?” Pidge bites down on her lip again, fingers outstretched toward him even with the table between them. What’s almost worse is the worried, strangely knowing air coming silently from Shiro.

“Yeah,” Matt reassures quickly, too quickly. “I’m fine. Sorry about that. Bit of a space case nowadays, that’s all.” Matt flashes a disarming smile, and quickly looks down to his data.

“Is it a problem that the data are in Altean?” Allura prompts, voice more curious than anything. Matt glances at her and instantly regrets it. She looks nothing like Haggar, she’s nothing like Haggar, but that’s still what he sees now that he knows. 

“Not a problem,” Leilani says smoothly, voice running over Matt’s frayed nerves like salve on a burn. “It will just take a little longer for our systems to recognize a language that has long since fallen out of use.”

Allura pauses before she nods. She seems sad now. “Yes, I suppose it would.”

“Martek should be up soon with the first translation,” Matt says, directing the comment to the other Commanders since he can’t handle looking at Allura right now. “He can help me go over diagnostic stuff. Jion too.”

“That’s your second, right? You talked to him earlier?” Shiro asks, brow creased and eyes fixed wholly on Matt. 

Matt nods. “They’re going to be bringing up the data that I extracted on the mission as well, if you’d like to take a look.” 

Allura looks surprised by the offer, and Pidge just beams. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. We tend to share information with our allies. Even if you tried to poach my hack, Katie-Cat. Which by the way? Rude.” Matt grins at her despite the lingering sourness from the way Allura’s face morphs into Haggar’s at the corner of his eye. Lance mouths  _ Katie-Cat _ to Hunk, looking absolutely delighted, earning himself a punch to the arm from Pidge herself. 

“I’m not used to running into allies on a Galra base hacking information. I didn’t know it was you.” She shrugs. 

“Empire,” Matt corrects automatically. Time to squash this bullshit now. 

“Uh, yeah, Empire,” she corrects herself, a funny look crossing her face. “But that shouldn’t be a problem anymore, right? I mean, if we’re working together.”

“Better not be.” Matt shoots her a smile, sinking his teeth into the act of lighthearted teasing with a desperate fervor in an attempt to chase the chill from his veins. “I taught you better etiquette than that.”

She snorts. “As if. I taught myself most of this, you moron. Earth basics don’t exactly hold up against space empires.”

“I’ll admit there’s a learning curve,” Matt chuckles. “But being in prison is one hell of a motivation to get shit done.” 

“That is right,” Leilani hums, smiling warmly once more. “Matthew, you began to build your skills when you were still among the Empire, yes?”    
  
“Yeah.” Matt nods. “After Shiro and I got… separated I got placed in alien IT and Dad and I eventually figured it out. Got pretty good at it over time.”

“Good is an understatement,” Kartok speaks up. “Holt is a talented hacker and his finesse with systems, be it our own or the Empire’s, is something that never ceases to impress.”

“You worked for them?” Keith asks, speaking up for what has to be the very first time since introductions. He’s spent the whole time frowning, looking at Shiro, or doing both at the same time. He sounds… not wary. More surprised. Confused. 

“I didn’t have much of a choice, Keith.” Matt meets his gaze, shrugging a shoulder. Without even looking, he knows Zarra is tensing in her seat. “It was my assignment. And in the end, it’s what got me out. Knowing the systems, having worked on them and in them for as long as I did, and being good at it.”

“How?” Everyone’s attention turns to Hunk and he shifts a little in his seat at being the new focus. “I mean—sorry, I just—”

Matt waves it away. “You’re fine. Another engineer and I organized a rebellion and took down their drones.”

“More than that,” Zarra mutters.

“Holt designed a code while still a prisoner and implanted it into the systems,” Kartok explains, leaning forward and typing in a quick sequence, bringing up one of Matt’s own kill code sequences. The code dances proudly across the projection. “It gave him control from different access points to set off alarms, as well as shut them down, to feign emergencies in the mines and to shut down all of the drones synced to the prison’s signals. With the drones down, the guards were outnumbered.”

“Outnumbered and easily herded into the mines to be killed,” Zarra adds, blunt and simple. “It’s a technique we have perfected and use now in our regular raids.”

“Look, as much as I love dredging up things I did almost two years ago, can we get back to the meeting at hand?” Matt asks, nearly a growl. This is so not helping chase Haggar from his mind. 

“We are simply proud of you.” Leilani smiles, squeezing his shoulder.  It’s both a physical comfort and a way for them to ease some calm into him, unknotting the tension in his chest. “You are a Commander here for a reason. Your handling of the prison is the first reason why.”

“It is certainly an impressive story,” Allura says, smiling at Matt as well. 

Matt shrugs. He doesn’t want her praise.

Pidge speaks up again, hesitant but slowly growing more confident. “At least—at least you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” she says. “Right? I mean, you’re not a prisoner. You’re safe and we’re here—and—you can come home now,” she finishes with an achingly hopeful smile.

Matt frowns. “Come home?”

“Well not home, we won’t be going to Earth, but to the castle.” Pidge smiles, eyes bright. “Just wait till you see it, Matt. It’s amazing!”    


“Oh,” Leilani breathes out at his side, two of their hands clasping tightly together. Matt glances to them, his stomach sinking. He can only imagine what Katie’s happiness must feel like, earnest and bright and so hopeful. Shit.    
  
“Katie…” Matt starts, slowly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Pidge blinks at him. “What?” she asks, smile starting to slip. “Of course you are.”

“No. I’m not.” Zarra is tense at his side, her tightly curled fists tucked out of sight under the table. Matt shakes off the urge to reach for her. “I’m not leaving the Coalition. I’m not going with you.”

Something shutters in her eyes, and the most awful silence hangs in the air. No one speaks or moves until Shiro reaches for her, murmuring, “Pidge—” But she’s talking before he can say anything else.

“You have to,” she says, brow furrowed tightly. “We found you, you’re supposed to come home with us after we find you. That’s how it works, Matt!”

“I wasn’t lost, Katie.” Matt’s frown deepens. The paladins’ gazes on him are heavy and uncomfortable. He looks down at the table, sighing. “I—look, this isn’t something we should be talking about now. It’s not—”   
  
“I want to talk about it now!” Her hands curl into fists, she’s glaring hotly at him, even as her eyes shine with the renewed threat of tears. “Matt!”

“Katie,” Matt warns her, frowning. “I said not now.”

“Matthew,” Leilani tries to soothe, the pretty blue of their eyes tinted darker with concern. “Perhaps we should all calm down and—”

“I don’t care!” Pidge says again, the pitch of her voice rising. “You’re not my Commander, Matt, you’re my brother and I want to talk about this right now!”

“That’s enough, Katelyn!” Matt slams an angry fist down on the table. “We’re not doing this now! Do you hear me?!”

She’s startled into silence, along with the rest of the room, but her eyes are the only ones that shine brighter with tears. Instantly he’s filled with a mix of regret and annoyance. Fucking hell, now he’s the bad guy. 

“Matt.” Shiro reaches for Pidge, curling a hand on her shoulder, tugging her closer to him. “That’s enough.”

“She doesn’t need you to play protector, Shiro.” Matt rolls his eyes, the tang of the annoyance winning out over the pull of guilt. “This isn’t the place for that conversation.”

Shiro’s eyes flicker, and his shoulders settle back a little bit. “Maybe so,” he says, calm and careful, and it’s wrong. Shiro’s never talked to him like that before. That’s how he talks to Iverson and the other higher ups at the Garrison, when they’ve done something he doesn’t agree with. Matt frowns. 

That’s not how Shiro talks to him. 

“Let us move on for the moment,” Allura says gently. One elegant hand falls to Pidge’s shaking shoulder. Pidge drops her gaze to the table and sinks back into her seat. A stone sinks in Matt’s gut, and he too has to look away. 

Shit. 

 

* * *

 

“The hour runs late,” Kartok says, quite a while later, when all of them are exhausted, focus starting to wane. Things really haven’t gotten any easier, not with the thick tension lingering in the air from before. “Perhaps it is best that we let things come to an end for the moment.”    
  
“Yes, I believe that might the best course.” Allura nods, hands folding in her lap one more. “I regret that we did not cover more topics, and that there is still so much left between us. But we should be returning to the castle soon.”

“What?” The word startles up from Matt without his person, fear striking him sharp like lightning. No, no they can’t leave yet! Shiro’s frowning too, even as he holds a silent and sullen Pidge tucked against his side.    
  
“Allura,” Shiro says, low and urgent. “Maybe we should—”   
  
“Let us open our halls to you for the night,” Leilani offers with a smile of their own, warm and reassuring to the room at large, stamping down any rising tension before it can gain a foothold. “We are happy to extend every ounce of our hospitality. That way we may continue speak more, in a less formal setting, after everyone has had a chance to unwind from what has surely been a long and stressful day.” Their eyes wash over the paladins, whose armor is a bit battered, and Matt, still mission ready. “Does that sound agreeable to you, Princess?”

Allura exchanges a look with Shiro, and takes a glance around at her paladins, before nodding slowly. “That might be for the best… I will need to contact my advisor. He is back on the castle and will worry if we do not return.”    
  
“But of course,” Leilani nods. “Do whatever you must, Princess.”

“Thank you,” Allura says, nodding to the Commanders as she stands gracefully. “Paladins? Do you agree to this as well?”

“I’m good with whatever, Princess,” Lance shrugs, hands locking behind his head. “I’m not gonna say no to a chance to get out of the armor and take a shower sooner rather than later.”   
  
“Yeah, I’m with Lance.” Hunk nods. “And I’d like to get a look at the kitchens on board, after what Commander Leilani was telling us before about the different cuisine you guys dish up.” 

Keith’s got his arms crossed tight over his chest. “I have to check on Red,” he says, voice tight, but his eyes are thoughtful, resting on Pidge and Shiro together. “But I don’t need to be at the Castle to do that. What do you think, Shiro?”

Shiro is quiet for a moment, and Matt swears his damn heart has stopped beating as he waits for him to speak. “I want to stay,” he says quietly, nodding as he squeezes Pidge’s shoulder, and his eyes come to rest on Matt again. A smile pulls at his lips, one that Matt mirrors, his heart beating double time now.    
  
Pidge nods as well, though she’s not looking at Matt, curled in on herself and wiping at her cheeks.    
  
“It is settled then.” Leilani beams, all four hands clasping together. “Come friends, let us show you to the guest quarters. Kartok, will you let !oshi know about the plans for the evening?”    
  
“Of course.” He nods, smiling for Leilani. If Zarra has any objections, she keeps them to herself. Matt catches a curious flick of her ear. She’s watching him carefully. 

“Shall we?” Leilani asks, getting to their feet.    
  
“Yes,” Allura nods. “Let’s.”    
  
That’s cue enough for everyone else to follow. Shiro walks close at Allura’s back, Pidge still tucked under his arm. Matt can see him say something to her, too quiet for him to hear, but it’s something soothing if the way her shoulders drop means anything.    
  
“You must talk with them,” Zarra says, suddenly at Matt’s side. The two of them are the last out of the room, giving Kartok space to talk with !oshi over his comm. The paladins use the move to press close and chatter together, each of them taking a turn to check in on Pidge, speaking softly, touching her shoulder, her back, her hand, with a warm familiarity that surprises Matt to no end.    
  
“I shouldn’t have yelled,” he mutters, shutting down the table top projections before making to leave the room.   
  
“I do not like that she wishes to take you from us.” Zarra’s hand clasps with his again, her fingers slipping nimbly through his own. “But no. You should not have yelled at her.”    
  
Matt sighs, carding his free hand through his hair. “I’ll talk to them later, I guess. After we get them settled.”   
  
“No. Do it now.” Zarra squeezes his fingers. “Pull them away, get some time to talk with them before it can settle between you. You do not want that, Matthew.” 

No, he really doesn’t.    
  
Zarra lifts their hands, brushing a quick kiss to his knuckles, a soft, brief purr swelling at the smile that little gesture brings to Matt’s lips. “Be easy,” she murmurs.   
  
“I’m trying,” Matt mutters back.   
  
“Try harder.” The exchange is familiar and playful and Zarra’s grinning now. Matt laughs softly, kissing the back of her hand before letting go and pulling away. He moves forward, past Lance and Hunk asking Kartok something now that his call with !oshi is finished, and past Keith, walking silent and vigilant at Shiro’s back. Matt would think things never change, Keith as Shiro’s shadow, just like back at the Garrison, but there’s an edge to the action now that wasn’t there before, a sharp protective thing.    
  
There isn’t time to think about that now, though.   


“Shiro,” Matt says, falling in step with him. He can match him almost stride for stride, the prosthetics’ power making up for what little difference is left between them in height. “Can we talk?”

“Can it wait?” Shiro asks, arching a brow at him. “I think it might be best if we all get a chance to settle, don’t you think?”

“No.” Matt shakes his head. “I don’t think it can. We need to talk. Katie too.” He glances down to his silent sister. Her eyes flicker to him and then quickly away again. Shiro sighs, but he nods.    
  
“Alright.”    
  
“Come on.” Matt takes his hand, the metal one, and pulls them from their group. “I want to show you something.” Keith’s eyes track the movement, narrowing slightly, but he doesn’t say a word or move to stop them. 

Matt doesn’t miss how tense Shiro’s hand feels in his own. He ignores the sting in his chest, he knows he deserves that, but he’s not letting go until Shiro tells him to. Matt leads them down a corridor he knows well, one that takes them away from the others.   


In the silence between them, Matt can’t imagine what they must be thinking. Hell, he barely knows what  _ he’s _ thinking about the whole thing.    


“I shouldn’t have snapped,” Matt says eventually, because someone has to speak first and it’s really seeming like no one else will. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Katie.” 

She doesn’t answer for long moments, only curling a little more in on herself and tucking her face away from him.

Matt doesn’t push.

Finally she whispers, “Still hurt.”

“I know.” Matt swallows around the lump of guilt in his throat, the same one he’s felt for years about leaving her and their mother, now coated with something new and bitter. “That… I fucked up. I’m sorry.”

There’s a tiny twitch of Shiro’s fingers, but Matt isn’t sure if it’s supposed to be a reassuring squeeze or if he wants to pull away.

“We always thought you’d come back with us,” Shiro says quietly. That ‘we’ hits harder than Matt thinks Shiro meant it to. 

“I assume that was contingent on me not being a slightly crucial part of a different organization,” Matt retorts, the guilty lump throbbing a bit when he sees how Shiro glances away.

Shiro just murmurs, “We had no way to know, Matt. It wasn’t an unreasonable thing to think.”

“Not unreasonable,” Matt agrees. “Just not possible now.” 

Pidge speaks up again to ask tensely, “Why isn’t it possible?”

“Because I have responsibilities here. I have a job to do.” Matt turns them up a hallway long since familiar to him. He lets go of Shiro’s hand so he can pull up the holoscreen from his wrist attachment, stabilizing it so he can load a few files, and hand them over for the two paladins to look at.    
  
“What’s this?” Shiro asks, brow creasing just slightly. 

“My hourly update on the functions of the Communications Hub data processes, incoming information from allies, scheduled check-ins from open missions, and debriefs from several of my subordinates. And that’s just the stuff I get for what I’m in charge of, not even all the things we deal with as Commanders together.”

Shiro’s brows raise slightly as he glances over the sheer volume of information.

“So you’re busy,” Pidge says bitterly. “Thanks for clarifying.”

“It’s more than that,” Matt sighs. “I have a job to do here, one I’ve worked hard for and that I’ve earned. One I want to do. I have a place here, I belong with the Coalition.”   
  
“You belong with  _ us _ ,” Pidge counters, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “With family and people who love you.”   
  
Matt sighs again. Telling her he has that here isn’t going to do anything but hurt and upset her. How does he even start to explain the deep bonds he’s built with what little time they have?    
  
Shiro hands the screen back to him, their fingers brushing. It’s cliché, but Matt feels sparks erupt at that barely-there touch.    
  
Matt collapses the holoscreen and slows to a stop outside the door to the Hub. He knows it’s bustling right now as everyone ties up the day’s loose ends. Here in the hall, though, a misleading quiet reigns.

“This is what I wanted to show you,” he says, gesturing at the door. “What I do here, and what I’ve worked to build. I know you’re upset that I can’t jet off to your castle, but I want to share this with you. Both of you.”

Pidge eyes the door warily, but Shiro just nods. Matt wonders how hard he’s working to keep up that façade of leaderly calm.

“Can I show you?” he asks gently.

It takes another moment before Pidge answers in a tight voice, “Sure.”

 

* * *

 

In retrospect, he should have known bringing his sister to the Communications Hub was probably gonna bite him in the ass.    
  
Her chilly sullenness had melted in the face of his operation, which wasn’t surprising. A couple of years and a new name weren’t going to change the fact that Matt knows his sister, and what he knows best is how weak she is to new tech. 

Pidge lights up, Shiro laughs, and Matt is quick to usher them to the heart of the Hub to introduce them both to Martek. Which turns out to be a huge mistake.

“I really didn’t think they’d get along this well,” Matt murmurs to Shiro. They’re tucked away for the moment, leaning against the empty counter that normally serves as general storage for scrap and spare parts. He’s got his eyes trained on the center bank of consoles, where Pidge sits perched in his chair, chattering away to Martek with a literal sparkle in her eyes. 

Shiro chuckles. “If she can talk tech, she’s happy. We’ve had more than enough experiences that confirm that.”

Matt presses a little closer to Shiro, letting their fingers brush, and Shiro shoots him a small, shy smile.

“It’s good to see her happy,” Matt murmurs. His stomach is turning some impressive tricks when he takes the warmth of Shiro’s hand in his own, emboldened by that smile. “She get to be happy often?”

“As often as any of us,” Shiro murmurs with a shrug. “This is the happiest I’ve seen her, though. Probably because we found you.”

A moment of silence passes between them.

Matt takes a deep breath. This probably isn’t something he should poke at, but… “You know why I can’t leave, right? You get that my place is here?”

Profound sadness flickers across Shiro’s face.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I get it.”

“I have responsibilities,” Matt continues, because he needs to explain himself, needs Shiro to really understand. “I built this place… it’s mine. This is my team, and I’m not going to abandon them. I can’t.”

“No, really, Matt. I get it.” Shiro squeezes his hand, just a quick pulse of pressure. “If there’s anyone who knows where you’re coming from, needing and wanting to stay and be with your team, it’s me.” He looks out over the expanse of the Hub. “Your team is just a little bigger than mine.”

“You haven’t seen the half of it,” Matt laughs, soft and humorless. 

“Why do you say it like that?”

“No reason.” Matt looks back to his sister, his baby sister, face all lit up by a holo screen and the widest smile he’s seen on her yet. The idea of telling them about the kinds of missions he runs with the Alphas twists in his stomach.

“Matt.” Shiro squeezes his hand again until Matt looks at him. “What’s wrong?"

Matt sighs, trying to work through what to say, when he’s saved by a ping from his wrist comm.

“Shit, gotta get this,” he murmurs. He pulls his hand back from Shiro to open the message—a few short words from Kartok.

_ We are convened in the upper lounge with the Princess. Bring the Black Paladin if you are able. _

“Looks like we’re wanted, handsome.” 

“What?"

“That sit-down with your princess appears to be happening now. They want us in the lounge.” Matt tilts the screen toward Shiro so he can read too before pushing away from the counter and heading toward the central consoles. Shiro’s footsteps follow after a brief moment’s pause. 

Martek sees him coming before Pidge does, straightening up at her side. Only when he greets Matt with a calm “Commander” does she draw her attention from the screens hovering before her. 

“Hey Matt.” Pidge smiles, blinking at him. The Hub has really done wonders for her mood, there’s barely a trace of sadness left now. “This place is amazing. Martek was telling me about the specs and all the upgrades you two designed, and it’s been giving me ideas for things I want try for the castle!"

“That’s great,” Matt grins. “I hope that’s a sign we can abandon you here with Martek for a bit. Shiro and I have been summoned upstairs for some Commander-y things.”

“Oh. Sure.” She shrugs, smiling again. “I like Martek, we’re having fun.”

“Martek, you good with babysitting the squirt?” Matt snickers at the indignant noise that sparks from Pidge. 

“I am happy to continue conversing with the Green Paladin.” Martek smiles. “As for babysitting, perhaps I should share with her some stories of your time here with the Coalition, sir.”

“I knew picking you to be my second was going to backfire one day.” Matt groans, grinning easy. It’s nice to see his sister and his friend get on so well, as much of a headache as he’s sure it’ll cause later. 

Pidge grins at Martek and then looks up at Shiro. “Do you want me to let the others know where you’re going? Assuming Allura hasn’t already?”

“I’ll tell Keith myself, but if you want to send something over the comms I’d appreciate it.” Shiro smiles. “Thanks Pidge.”

“Telling Keith’s a good call,” she nods. “He’s probably already pretty twitchy about us being away from everyone else.” 

“That’s what I was thinking, too. I’ll shoot him a message on our way.”

“So we’re set?” Matt asks, looking between them.

Pidge flashes him a grin, Shiro nods. “We’re set.”

“Cool. Come on, flyboy.” Matt grins, offering Shiro his hand. “Don’t want to keep your princess waiting.”

Shiro takes his hand and smiles. “Let’s go.”


	5. Chapter 5

The moment they step into the lounge, Matt is bombarded by the thick flood of citrus on his tongue. It brings a smile to his lips, and he’s expecting the scene they get before he and Shiro are even through the door.

Leilani and Kartok wait for them inside. Kartok rests on the couch, sitting up straight with his head titled back onto the cushions. His eyes are closed, and Leilani rests two hands at his temples. There’s no tang of metal to the sweet citrusy taste, so that means Kartok still hasn’t let Leilani heal his pain, but Matt takes comfort in the fact that he’s letting them soothe it for the moment.

“Ah, there you are Matthew!” Leilani smiles warmly when Matt and Shiro enter the Commanders’ lounge together. “And Shiro as well! Hello!”

“Hey Lani.” Matt chuckles, squeezing Shiro’s hand, pulling him more into the room. “Missed me?”

“Always,” Kartok murmurs without opening his eyes. A small smile hides in the corners of his mouth. “We did not expect your arrival so soon.”

“I made the mistake of introducing my sister to Martek,” Matt explains. He leads Shiro over to the unoccupied couch in the room, sitting down and pulling Shiro with him. “Getting out of there sooner rather than later was in my best interest.”

“Matthew,” Leilani chides, laughing. “Come now.”

“I’m serious.” Matt grins. “It’s a disaster waiting to happen. Shiro saw, he can back me up.”

“Pidge isn’t going to do anything.” Shiro holds a little tighter to his hand. “I mean… she might tell some embarrassing stories if she gets some in return, but I highly doubt your second in command would…” He trails off at the pinched look that crosses Matt’s face. “I’m going to guess Martek has some stories she might be interested in?”

“I should have left him on Shi’or,” Matt grumbles. He shifts, folding his legs up on the couch with a mechanical hum. Shiro’s eyes flicker down at the sound and then he pretends they didn’t. Matt in turn pretends not to notice.

“I will remind you now, Matthew, that I offered to take Martek once you felt more comfortable with Jion being under your direct command and you laughed at the very thought.” Kartok blinks open his eyes, dark and soulful, and so much more relaxed than he’d been before. Matt can’t help but grin at him.

“He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s my pain.” Matt turns his grin on Shiro. “Sound familiar?”

“Pretty much what I said to Pidge every time she asked why I bothered to date you,” Shiro recalls fondly. “I would hope your relationship with Martek is different than ours of course. Fraternization was always our MO but never with an actual power dynamic.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just insinuate me in a relationship with Martek and move right along.” Matt wrinkles up his nose, disgusted by the very idea. Martek is great, but he’s like a brother and just… no.

Shiro laughs, low and warm, and Matt could drown in the sound. It’s only made lovelier by the ring of Leilani’s own laugh, closer to a giggle than not, hovering above Shiro’s in the air.

“Oh, it is so good to feel you happy!” Leilani beams, drawing their hands back from Kartok’s temples and shoulder as he shifts to sit up more on the couch. The tension has clearly melted away from him. Matt swears it makes him look younger. Leilani moves around the couch and crosses the space between the furniture to take Matt’s face in two hands.

“Thanks Leilani.” Matt smiles up at them, closing his eyes as he anticipates the kiss they brush to his forehead. Once more Shiro’s fingers go tighter on Matt’s hand, this time more out of a surprised reflex than anything.

Leilani releases Matt and he opens his eyes to see them turn a brilliant smile on Shiro. Matt swallows back a bubble of amusement at the way Shiro’s eyes go a touch wider. Leilani’s full attention can be a lot to take. They absolutely radiate unadulterated sunshine and warmth and genuine joy when they smile like they are now.  
  
“I hope you do not find me too forward, Shiro.” Leilani folds two hands before them, the loose, draped fabric of their dress seeming to float around them, even as they stand still. “But I cannot help but express my joy at the happiness that comes from you both!”

“I—I don’t think you’re too forward,” Shiro says, voice awed. Matt doesn’t hide his laugh this time.

“Leilani’s an empath,” Matt explains, grinning. “They get a constant read of everyone’s emotions.”

“So when you said they could taste what you were feeling…?”

“Much of my empathic read does come to me through that sense, yes.” Leilani laughs. “I am sensitive enough of an empath that I can see and read auras as well, but Matthew is not wrong to say what he has.”

“Wow.” Shiro blinks. “I’ve… we’ve never come across an empath before. At least I don’t think we have.”

“It is a rare gift,” Kartok intones. He’s grabbed his data pad from the coffee table, skimming through it quickly. “Zarra was quite shocked when she learned of Leilani’s abilities upon our first meeting years ago.”

“Where is Zarra, by the way?” Matt asks, taking a cursory glance around the room. “And Princess Allura, for that matter?” He looks up at Leilani. “We’re having a meeting, right? Princess and Black Paladin along with the four of us?”

“Princess Allura is still on her call with her advisor,” Leilani informs him. They sit on the edge of the low table before Matt and Shiro’s couch, limbs folded elegantly. “And Zarra went to fetch you a change of clothes.”

“She didn’t have to do that.” Matt smiles and he knows it’s fond.

“You’ve been in your bodysuit for too long, Matthew,” Kartok chides gently. “You should have changed hours ago.”

Matt’s response of an overdramatic sigh is cut off by the sudden entrance of Zarra herself, who smiles to see him.

“I brought you clothes,” she says. She holds out a few neatly folded items for him to collect.

Shiro’s hand slips from his as Matt stands, grinning at his Amatus. “Thanks, Z.” She hums in response, pressing the clothes into his hands.  
  
“There is something for your paladin as well,” Zarra adds. She walks over to join Kartok on the couch, pressing directly against his side, absolutely no space between them. He acknowledges her with a hum and a smile.  
  
“For me?” Shiro blinks, sitting up a bit straighter.

“Of course.” Zarra nods. “!oshi has brought together a change of clothes for all the paladins. You are to be staying the night after all. I am sure you have slept in armor before, but it is hardly comfortable.”

“I… thank you.” Shiro stares at her for a moment, before looking up at Matt. Matt grins, picking out the shirt and shorts Zarra snagged for him from the pile, his usual every day black, and holding out the clothes clearly meant for Shiro’s bulkier frame. Zarra’s picked a dark red and black patterned shirt.

Damn her. She has to know how much Matt’s gonna like seeing Shiro in their colors.  
  
“If you want somewhere to go change, there’s a smaller lounge across the hall, handsome.”

“Um—yeah, thanks.” Shiro stands up from the couch and accepts the clothes. “I’ll uh, be right back.”

“Take your time.” Matt catches Shiro’s hand with a grin, pulling him in for a quick kiss. Shiro blushes, a pretty, bashful pink, and Matt has to kiss him again.

“Stop,” Shiro mutters, smiling too wide to mean it.

“Never,” Matt murmurs. “Not now that I’ve got you back.” He steals one more kiss before releasing Shiro, who’s blushing hard now, to scuttle across the hallway.

Leilani laughs sweetly as soon as Shiro is out of the room. “Matthew!”

“Yeah yeah.” Matt waves them off, unable to contain his grin. “I’m turning into a big old sap over here. No need to go on about it.”

“Why should they not?” Zarra asks, leaning against Kartok’s shoulder. “Your happiness is a source for our own. We are your kin, and you have had your love and part of your family returned to you today. Why would that not be cause for our celebration?”

Matt’s cheeks start to burn, and he’s smiling so wide it hurts. “Shut up,” he mutters, dropping his attention to catching the zipper on his body armor. Leilani steps up, chuckling softly.

“Let me help you, Starling,” they murmur. Matt hums his thanks, stripping out of the armor top first before focusing on the delicate straps at the top of his prostheses. Stripping down in front of them and getting changed is hardly anything new. Sharing a tiny ship with his father and boyfriend relieved Matt of most of his modesty, and what little was left was gone by the end of his year in prison. Besides, this is his kin.

He has nothing to hide from them.

Matt’s changed into the clean shorts and is tightening the straps to keep them secure when the hiss of the door signals Shiro’s return. Matt turns to greet him with a grin, shirt in hand, and a tease on his lips. “Let’s see how you look in Coalition red, huh?”

The tease falls sour when he sees how shocked and stricken Shiro is.

“Shiro?” Matt frowns, stepping forward. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Matt...” His name falls from Shiro’s lips like it hurts to say. “I—what happened to you?”

It takes Matt a moment to follow the drag of Shiro’s horrified gaze and realize that Shiro’s asking about the scars marking complicated trails across his skin. The many… many scars. Shit.

“I’m fine.” Matt is quick to pull on his shirt, hiding the evidence of his missions and various skirmishes from view. “Leilani healed me up after each one, and I’m fine now, Shiro. They’re just scars.”

“I… sorry.” There’s a crack in Shiro’s voice that physically hurts to hear. That ‘sorry’ says more than Shiro could have possibly wanted it to say; _I hurt you_ and _I failed you_ all wrapped up in one tiny word. Shiro’s eyes drop to the floor, and his cheeks go pink while his hands curl into shaking fists. Matt sighs.

It takes less than two strides to cross the room to Shiro at the door, and less than two seconds before Matt wraps Shiro up in his arms.

“I’m fine,” he says again, pressing the words to the crook of Shiro’s now easily accessible neck. “Really. I’m okay, Takashi.”

It takes a minute, but Shiro hugs him back, tightly. He tucks his face against Matt’s neck. His lips find and press against what Matt knows is the tail end of a scar that curls up over his collarbone. That was a particularly bad one at the time, he’d caught the tail end of a blade too similar to the one Shiro had at the mouth of the arena. Rel had needed to pull Matt back from that mission, he’d passed out before getting back to base, and woke up with Leilani’s worried face swimming before his eyes, their hands stained red with his blood.

Shiro doesn’t need to know any of that.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro whispers again.

“Don’t be.” Matt holds him tighter. The faintest bit of oil tickles at the back of Matt’s throat. “Leilani. We’re fine.”

“I’m sorry.” Leilani is tense, hands clasped tightly, with their fingers all knotted together. Their voice is a reminder for Shiro that they’re not alone. He goes tense, and breaks away from Matt and the embrace quickly.

“I—I forgot myself for a moment.” Shiro says tightly, chin tilting up and tension holding him straight and tall. “I’m sorry. I just… I was caught off guard.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Zarra says, before Matt can repeat himself. She still sits at Kartok’s side. One hand has curled itself tight around one of her wrists, but her gaze is calm, clear and steady. “It is never easy to see those we love hurt, even when those hurts are long healed, with only mere shadows left behind.”

Shiro’s jaw clenches but he nods in response. Matt is about to break the silence—he doesn’t know how—when the door slides open again and !oshi ushers Princess Allura inside.

“Welcome, Princess,” Leilani says with a smooth smile as Kartok and Zarra rise, their faces showing varying levels of respect for the new arrival.

“Thank you.” Allura nods graciously even as her eyes flick to Shiro. “I am glad we have this opportunity to… get to know one another a little better.”

Matt has to quell a snort at that before Zarra trades a glance with him. Diplomacy may not be their particular game, and the whole situation may be weird as hell, but they still have to play along for now.

“We are glad for it as well.” The slow rise of tension in Kartok’s shoulders is back, but he still looks better than he did earlier. “Please, Princess, sit and join us.” He gestures toward one of the chairs and everyone settles again.

Shiro sits utterly straight at Matt’s side with nothing more than a brush of thighs and shoulders between them. Black Paladin mode, Matt supposes, though he wishes he could bring back that delicate blush and sweet smile from before. It was almost shy in a way he can only remember Shiro being at the very start of their relationship.

The conversation is limited to light pleasantries for a while—a cursory explanation of Voltron, a brief history of the Coalition. It’s easy to see, though, that something is gnawing at Allura.

“If you don’t mind, I would like to discuss our potential alliance further,” she finally says, hands folded primly in her lap.

Kartok frowns slightly. “Would you not prefer to wait until all your paladins may contribute to the conversation?”

“Oh no, Shiro and I are quite used to handling this sort of thing ourselves.” She shoots him a conspiratorial, almost smug look that he responds to with only a tight smile.

Royals. Matt thinks his eyes might fall out of his head with how hard he wants to roll them right now.

“What would you like to discuss first, Princess?” Leilani asks.

“Well, I know Pidge isn’t here, but I do understand a good bit of our technology—Matt, would you mind telling us more about yours?” She raises her perfect eyebrows expectantly.

Matt freezes. He turns to look at Zarra to see if she heard the same thing he did, but she’s already staring daggers at the Princess.

“Commander Holt,” Zarra corrects coldly, pulled up to her full—if diminutive—height in her seat. “Do not presume to address him so familiarly.”

Allura looks startled. “Oh, I apologize.”

“A simple mistake.” Kartok sets a hand on Zarra’s shoulder. “Let us be easy.”

Zarra scoffs quietly, but she lets herself be calmed. Matt clears his throat, shifting a bit in his chair. He glances to Allura.

Her expectant gaze turns again to him as he says, “I don’t have the materials on me right now, but I can get someone up here if you want.” A hint of citrus tickles at his tongue, Leilani’s relieved appreciation of his cooperation.

Allura nods and smiles. She apparently thinks the awkwardness is past. “If you could, that would be wonderful.”

While Leilani takes over the small talk once again, Matt pulls up his wrist comm and taps out a message to Martek. _Send Jion up to the lounge with the overviews and today’s data._

A few moments later the reply chimes: _He is on his way._

“One of my Hub techs is on his way up.” Matt closes the screen. He shifts toward Shiro, smiling. “Jion. He was on the mission with me.”

Shiro nods, smiling back at him. “You’ve mentioned him a few times. He’s pretty high up in your chain of command?”

“He’s been my interim second when I’ve needed Martek working elsewhere.” Matt can’t help but grin. “Jion is actually one of the first people I ever recruited for the Hub when I got my command. Picked him up off a refugee planet.”

“There are so many that have been displaced by this war,” Allura sighs, folding her hands in her lap. “We help as many as we are able, when we come across those who suffer from the Galra’s cruelty.”

“Yes, the _Empire’s_ destructive influence has been felt far and wide,” Kartok says dryly. Matt catches Leilani easing one grounding hand onto his forearm.

“Do you take on recruits often?” Allura asks. She leans forward in her curiosity.

Kartok nods. “We give all we meet the option to join our ranks.” A few taps on his pad loads up a neatly organized chart of recruitment data. “We also offer assistance to those who wish to return home, if they are able.”

“Some want to build new lives on the newly liberated planets,” Leilani adds. “The planet we met Commander Holt on, for example. They have built a society from the remains of the prison. This is the case for many, but as Commander Zarra said earlier, we are always growing.”

Allura launches into a few more questions about recruitment, giving Matt the opportunity to gently bump Shiro’s shoulder with his own to catch his attention.

“You okay over there?” he murmurs. “You know you don’t have to play the upright soldier all the time.”

Shiro droops slightly. “Oh. Uh—yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” He manages to scrounge up an unconvincing smile and brushes his fingers against Matt’s leg, recoiling suddenly when he realizes he’s touching metal.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Matt reassures quietly. “It’s just me. I mean, I get if you’re bothered by them, most people are at first—”

“I’ll get used to them,” Shiro whispers, his hand finding Matt’s and holding on tight. “They’re just… it’s a lot, Matt.” He drops his eyes to Matt’s hands, tracing over the faded scars and burns with his thumb. “You… you have so many scars.”

“I know.” Matt glances over to everyone else. Kartok is explaining some section of data to Allura, seeming more at ease around her than he’s been all day. “But… isn’t that a good thing?”

“What?” Shiro frowns.

“I’d rather be alive and scarred than the alternative.” Matt squeezes Shiro’s hand. “My scars are a reminder of what I’ve survived. Of all the things that could have killed me but didn’t. Like a weird, morbid scrapbook,” he laughs quietly. “But I’m here, Shiro—Takashi. I’m here.”

Shiro is nodding, taking a breath like he’s about to reply, when Jion arrives and draws all their attention to the door once again. He’s still moving in an aura of pride from the success of their earlier mission, and Matt almost chuckles aloud at the way the young Galran carries himself, all puffed out. But, really, he deserves to preen a little.

Jion nods respectfully to the gathering and then holds out a small drive for Matt. “The data you requested, Commander.”

Matt stands with a whir of his legs to collect the drive. “Thanks, Jion. Hang around, would you? Martek usually does commentary but you know what you’re doing just as well.”

Jion’s eyes go wide. “Yes, Commander.” He hesitates a moment, gangly and unsure, the lantern glow of his eyes flickering to each of his Commanders’ faces, and then Shiro and Allura’s as well. Matt chuckles, handing the drive off to Kartok.

“Breathe and be easy, pup.” Matt clasps a gentle hand to Jion’s forearm. He drops his voice, just loud enough for Jion alone to hear. “I’m here if you need me, but you’ve got this.”

Jion nods, the barest hint of a grateful smile crossing his face, before he takes up a place on the edge of the room while Kartok loads the files.

It’s only when Matt sits back down next to Shiro that he notices how Allura has gone tense, her eyes tracking Jion’s every movement. Matt frowns. The hell is up with her now?

The pieces click into place when he sees the cold look on Zarra’s face and the way she studiously avoids looking at Allura.

Fuck.

Matt clears his throat to begin the rundown, hoping to cut off any potential comment from Allura about his subordinate. He knows full well it’s not her place, but he doesn’t trust _her_ to know that.

_Royals._

“So, I’ll probably be sending all this to Ka—Pidge later anyway, but this is what we pulled from that base earlier today.” He tosses datasets up onto the projected screen as he rattles off their contents: “Troop locations in this sector, base staffing, prisoner logs including transfers, and my personal favorite—” he trades a grin with Jion “—local tech developments the Empire is trying to integrate into their systems.”

Shiro leans forward, wide-eyed, to scan over the last file. “Fascinating,” he murmurs. “How’d you know to find that?”

“Their communications systems are embarrassingly easy to intercept.” Matt knows he’s more smug than he should be about that, but fuck it.

“It’s one of the first things Commander Holt tests new Hub recruits on,” Jion pipes up, smiling. “How they do there puts them in or out of line for the active missions roster. All Alpha and Beta Strike teams are equipped with at least one trained Hub tech familiar with Empire systems and data collection.”

Allura makes a little scoffing noise and says, “Well, clearly some might have an advantage in that particular test.”

Jion’s ears immediately droop. Before the growl he knows is growing in Zarra’s throat can escape, Matt cuts in snidely with, “And what advantage do you think that is, Princess?”

She might as well be rolling her eyes. “Commander Holt, I have seen that you value collaboration with… all kinds, but—”

“All kinds,” he repeats flatly. “If you mean Galrans, just say Galrans.”

“Excuse me, but we bring Galra allies with us to the table.” Allura narrows her eyes.

“The Blade of Marmora,” Shiro interjects quickly. “We work closely with them often. They’re an organization made up entirely of Galra who fight against the Empire.”

“So why the attitude to Jion and Ortraz?” Matt demands. “If you’ve got allies who are Galran, then what’s your problem, Princess? Why do you have issues with our Galrans?”

“Matthew!” Leilani scolds, tone edging almost sharp. “Let us all take a moment to be calm now.”

“Because you’re not pissed hearing this?” Matt snaps. “Leilani, come on!”

“Commander Holt, I did not mean to offend you.” Allura holds up one hand, all prim and proper and Princessy.

“Yeah well, you did.” Matt shakes his head. “You insulted an integral member of my team. And I think you might just owe Jion an apology.”

“Matt,” Shiro sighs at the same time that Jion mutters a soft, “Commander Holt, that’s not necessary.” Matt holds up a finger to the both of them. They’re not the ones he wants to hear from right now. He trains his gaze sharply on Allura.

“I do not appreciate being spoken to this way.” Her pretty eyes narrow, almost seeming to darken menacingly in color. Matt can physically feel the way Kartok’s hackles raise, along with the low start of Zarra’s snarl.

“Please,” Leilani holds up their hands, the gesture open and pleading. “There is no need for this—”

“Like hell there isn’t!” Matt snaps, glaring right back at Allura. “I don’t care what you appreciate, Princess. And I’m waiting on that apology.”

Allura draws herself up, eyes flashing, as a trail of bitterness from Leilani traces over Matt’s tongue.

“I was scolded for speaking too familiarly to you, Commander Holt. Perhaps you do the same to me now.”

“I’m speaking to you the exact way I do any person who insults a member of my team and the Coalition.” A low whir fills the air, the mechanics in his prostheses responding to the tension running taut lines through him.

“My prejudices against the Galra are not unfounded,” Allura snaps. Her composure is cracking. Shiro frowns, turning toward her and away from Matt.

“Princess—”

“The Galra destroyed my planet. Zarkon killed my father and he brought about a reign of terror and destruction. Forgive me if my instincts tell me to be wary of any of the same kind!”

“You want to talk instincts?” Matt demands, springing to his feet. “If that’s what we’re running on then maybe I should treat you the way I would the person who’s hurt me worse than any Galran! The one who gave me my legs! You might know her, Princess. She’s fucking Altean!”

Sudden, thick silence descends in the room along with the slick slide of oil in Matt’s mouth.

Allura’s eyes go wide. “I—what?”

“An _Altean_ did this to me,” Matt spits, settling his legs into a wide stance. “Zarkon’s witch.”

Even from the corner of his eye, Matt can read Zarra’s stillness all too well. He knows the worry that will be knitted into her brow, the sympathetic pain in her eyes, how she’ll swallow clumsily around Leilani’s oil just the same as him.

He’s so attuned to his Amatus and the pull of the bond he knows he can’t physically feel thrumming strong between them that he’s almost startled by Shiro’s voice just behind him.

“Matt...” he whispers. Matt doesn’t look at him, he can’t. He keeps his gaze trained steady on Allura.

“ _She_ did that?” Allura demands. She seems to be caught between disgust and disbelief, but Matt doesn’t want to reflect on whether it’s directed at him or the witch.

“Kind of hard to forget a face when it’s been burned into your brain,” Matt snaps, the sound harsh and cruel. He winds his arms tight over his chest, straightening up to his full height. “If you don’t trust my memory, Princess, I can easily provide you with some details.”

“Matthew.” Kartok. “You do not have to do this.”

Matt ignores him.

“I’ll bet Shiro’s been thinking that I got these because of him,” he begins bitterly. “I don’t know what he’s told you, if he’s said anything at all, about how we got separated. He had to hurt me to keep me out of the gladiator arena, to make them send me away and take him instead.” Matt looks to Shiro, and sees the pain in his eyes, the haze of the memory sinking its claws in deep. Matt manages a small, tight smile. “All you did was scrape up my leg and give me some wicked bruises, Takashi. Losing you hurt more than the gash you gave me.”

“I’m sorry,” Shiro breathes. “Matt, I—”

“Don’t.” Matt holds up a hand. “God, just stop with that. You saved me, Shiro. I wouldn’t have had a snowball’s chance in hell in the arena, and instead you got me sent away, and I ended up back with my Dad. We were in the same prison camp together, and we got sent to the mines.” Matt laughs, short and toneless. “That lasted all of ten minutes until we started coughing up blood. Something in the air, I don’t know. It wasn’t good.”

All the color drains from Shiro’s cheeks. Matt continues on. He never wanted to tell this story, but now that he’s in it, the words just don’t stop coming.

“We should have died there. That first day, that first hour in the mines, we should have died. For some reason though, instead of being discarded and left to choke on the shit we were coughing up, we were taken to a medic. A _Galran_ medic,” he adds, narrowing his eyes at Allura. “He saved our lives and kept saving them. Seriously, I owe my actual life, and my father’s, to an Empire medic. He wasn’t obligated to do anything, but he healed us and then helped us figure out what we could do on base instead of dying in the mines.” Kranok’s face flashes in Matt’s mind, stuck in a perpetual scowl that doesn’t reach his eyes. He hasn’t thought about him in so long. “That’s how I ended up in tech, because of him.”

“Dad and I worked together pretty much on our own. Maintenance work and upkeep, small system repairs and computer patches. We learned to read the language, and speak it a little bit, and when we were sent into the mines for repairs it was with ventilators so we could do the work safely, and do it well.” Matt feels a jagged smile twist his lips. “We did it very well. Proved ourselves useful. Enough so that when I got hurt and trapped under a machine I was fixing they brought me to the infirmary for help.”

Matt pauses now, curling his hands into tight fists. “She wasn’t supposed to be there,” he says, voice tight. “I found that out later. She came looking for a test subject and found me, bleeding out in the infirmary. A piece of meat just waiting for her to sink her claws into.”

"Matthew," Leilani breathes, reaching for him but not rising to make contact.

Matt can’t bring himself to look to Shiro. He swallows the threat of bile coating his tongue and continues on.

“I came to strapped to a table, surrounded by her and her druids, all decked out in cloaks and masks. I didn’t know what was happening, I was sick with the pain, I could barely process where I was.” A soft, strangled laugh bubbles at to his lips. "I don't think I think I can put words to what it feels like to have someone saw through bone.” Allura gasps at this, one hand flitting to cover her mouth. Matt closes his eyes, clenching his fists tight enough he feels his knuckles pop. “I was on the brink of passing out, but the pain kept bringing me back, over and over again, but never sharper than when they started in on the second leg. I still don't know why they took both..." Matt falters for the first time, brow furrowing, blinking his eyes open again.

"They took their time, and through it all she was there, watching the whole damn thing. She stood at my head, and she was grinning the entire time. When they were done, I could barely see straight, could only taste blood because I'd screamed my throat raw. And I remember, because I will _never_ forget, that she was laughing.” Matt laughs himself, that same hollow, mirthless sound. “She was laughing, and then she told me to be grateful.”

Matt meets Allura’s horrified gaze head on, straightening up. “She left me there. Walked out and left me still strapped to the table. I don’t know how long I was there before Kranok, the medic, got there. He stopped me from being taken back to my cell, and he took care of me. Kept me in the infirmary as long as he could and then spent weeks checking on me, helping me learn to walk with the legs and deal with the pain.”

Allura’s brow knits together, not enough for confusion or true doubt, but it irks Matt all the same.

“I didn’t know who the witch was until I got here. Didn’t know her name, was barely sure I hadn’t hallucinated her face until I got my command and was looking through information files. That’s when I saw her again. That’s when I learned what she was. Altean.”

Matt forces himself to unclench his fists, fingers aching from how tightly wound he’s been. Noticing that, that little bit of pain, is enough for the rest of the world to bleed back into focus for Matt. There’s a sour saltiness on his tongue, all mixed up in the oil. Leilani’s worry and sadness are quite a cocktail.

The taste is all the sign he has that Leilani is anything but composed when Matt looks over to them. There’s not a single dawning of emotion on their face, beautiful features blanked out in a mask of calm. Kartok might as well be made of stone. Only the dark swirls of grief in his eyes and the way his ears twitch and press back flat against his head give him away. Zarra’s gaze burns when he looks at her, burns with empathy, sympathy, and a deep love that melts the sour taste from Leilani’s emotions away and fills Matt up with warmth.

“It’s kind of fucked up, but she was right. I have to be grateful,” Matt says, laughing shortly once more. “Without the legs I don’t think I would have ever started up with those thoughts of rebellion, wouldn’t have ever ended up here.”

And if he hadn’t ended up here, with the Coalition and his kin, he would never have found Shiro again.

Shiro, who’s motionless at the periphery of Matt’s vision. When Matt looks over at him, Shiro’s eyes are difficult to see, his face turned down to stare at his own open palm. The metal fingers of his prosthetic hand curl lightly around empty space.

For once, Matt feels like he’s run out of words. He’s wrung out, somehow, even without anyone probing him, without entirely letting loose the floodgates of everything about the experience that he’s bottled up for the last two years.

“Shiro?” he asks, surprised by the soft, vulnerable quality to his voice.  Is this what catharsis is supposed to feel like? He honestly has no idea.

It’s Allura who breaks the thick silence. “I—I’m sorry,” she nearly chokes, “would you—excuse me a moment?” Nobody else moves before she hurries out the door.

When Shiro finally, finally raises his gaze to meet Matt’s eyes, he looks… hurt. Endless pain sits in the furrow between his brows and guilt bubbles dark beneath the gray of his eyes.

He starts in a whisper, “I…”

Matt shakes his head. “Don’t.”

Shiro swallows and glances toward the door. “I should—the Princess.” He stands awkwardly without looking at Matt, his gaze flicking down to his clenched metal fist again.

“Yeah.” Matt nods once. “Of course.”

Shiro lingers a moment longer, just a moment before moving quickly out the door after Allura. No one moves until the door hisses shut behind them. The moment it does, Zarra is on her feet and at Matt’s side, her arms wrapping tight around his middle.

Matt closes his eyes.

All she says, in a bare whisper, is _“Amatus.”_

Matt all but crumples in her hold, his arms winding tight around her, his head dropping to land between her ears.

Kartok and Leilani follow slower, but it’s not long before they’re bracketing their kin too.

“Matthew,” Leilani coos, their arms wrapping loosely around Matt. “Starling.”

“You were never supposed to know that story,” Matt mutters into Zarra’s hair. “No one was.”

“It changes nothing,” Kartok rumbles, his dark eyes burning with their intensity. The timbre of his voice comes deep from in his chest and settles in between Matt’s bones. “You are kin. You are family. You are ours.” He’s so much bigger than the rest of them, in height and bulk, that he can wrap them all up in his arms at once and hug them tight.

Matt melts into the collective embrace, leaning gratefully the warmth of his kin.

He almost thinks he’s imagined the tiny “C-commander?” that floats over from the edge of the room until he remembers Jion.

Oh, _no._

His pup heard all of that.

Matt’s head snaps up, gaze picking through the tangle of limbs to find the Galran. “Jion.”

Jion is only just an inch or two shorter than Ortraz, for all that he’s a string bean in comparison, but he’s never looked smaller than he does right now. His eyes are downcast, dimmed from their usual glow, and his ears are all flopped over.

“Oh Jion.” Matt pulls away from the others, stumbling out of that bubble of warmth and safety. “God, I—you shouldn’t have ever heard any of that.”

“I’m sorry, Commander.” Jion looks like he’s holding himself together, one hand curled around his forearm, his broad but thin shoulders hunched inward. “I’m… I’m sorry, sir.”

“I don’t know why you’re apologizing, pup.” Matt sighs. He claps a hand to Jion’s arm and Jion meets his eyes. “You didn’t decide to be in the room for that.”

Jion nods, slow and unsure, but not willing to contradict his Commander.

“You need to take a bit for yourself?”  
  
“I think so, sir.”  
  
“Alright.” Matt nods. “Why don’t you check in with Martek and then take the rest of the evening off. Zetri and the rest of Beta One are coming back from their mission day after tomorrow, I’m sure you’ve got plenty to prepare for before she shows up and rocks your world.”

Jion perks up a little at that, even managing something that hints at a smile. “Yes, Commander. Thank you, sir.”

“Go on.” Matt pats his arm again to prompt Jion into moving, which he does after a moment.

Matt returns to his kin as Jion leaves, sinking again into their quiet support, holding Zarra so close that he can feel her soothing purrs in his chest. The light honey of Leilani’s love sends sweet tendrils over all their tongues.

“I can’t believe I said all that with him here,” Matt whispers. “I… shit. Shit, shit shit, I can’t fucking believe—Goddammit!”

“Hush,” Zarra murmurs. Her hands find their way between them, one cupping to the back of Matt’s neck, possessive but with no pressure, the other pressing over the beat of his heart. “Jion will be fine. He is not some delicate little thing.”

“He shouldn’t have had to hear that.” Matt shakes his head, swallowing hard against the build of panic in his throat. “He’s doesn’t need to know that about me, no one was ever supposed to know!”

“You mentioned the witch and your legs before,” Leilani informs him, calm and gentle. “Just once. When you called after your first encounter with the paladins, when confusion was laid thick before us.”

“I… I did?” Matt frowns. “I don’t remember that.”

“It was a passing comment in the heat of a very tense moment.” One of Kartok’s hands, big and warm, fits solidly between Matt’s shoulder blades.  
  
“I don’t remember it.” Matt can’t help but repeat himself. He closes his eyes tight, fingers curling in the back of Zarra’s shirt. She purrs a little louder, the sound taking on a distressed note.  
  
Leilani pulls back from the embrace first, murmuring softly for Kartok, “Dear heart.” There’s nothing else that needs to be said. Kartok’s answering rumble thrums from deep in his chest before he too steps away. Matt holds on to Zarra tightly, but she doesn’t move a single inch.

“Breathe,” Zarra whispers. The hand at the back of Matt’s neck curls a little tighter. “Breathe, Matthew.”

“I’m trying.” Matt swallows around the words, feeling for all the world like they’re stuck in his dry throat.

“Try harder.” The familiar tease brings an echo of a smile to his lips even now. Matt looks down at her, catching a soft, fond smile of her own. “Close your eyes,” she whispers, tapping a finger lightly on his chest.

He follows the direction without question, so used to putting absolute trust in her. Even that small change—eyes closed, Zarra in charge—ekes some of the tension out of Matt’s chest. She won’t let him get hurt.

Zarra presses up on her toes, enough that she can lean their foreheads together, while her thumbs brush gently down the column of his throat. It’s intimate, it’s soothing, it’s so achingly familiar and warm. It grounds Matt in the moment and keeps him present. His fingers relax in her shirt, sliding down to rest at her waist. He doesn’t need to see to know that Zarra's lips are tilted up in a smile.

The dance of citrus on his tongue mixed with Kartok’s hum only makes it better.

“We are here," Zarra murmurs, her nose brushing against Matt's cheek. "We are here, and we are yours and you are ours. That will never change, no matter what you tell us." Her words are heavy, accented with the purr from deep in her chest.

"I know," Matt breathes out, fingers flexing at her hips.

The citrus comes in bursts again, more fervent on their tongues and heightened now with a thick curl of honey. Zarra laughs at the taste, a quiet, breathless sound and Matt opens his eyes to meet her own, just in time to catch that smile of hers, that sweet and special little thing.

"Thank you," he breathes out, keeping her close, just as close as she's keeping him. "Zarra..."

"You are ours," she murmurs again, smile soft and fond, gentle as she is only with kin. Zarra leans up and brushes the lightest of kisses to his lips, sparking fireworks in Matt's chest. He’s long since become familiar with this show of love and trust given only from one Amatus to another. It's the sweetest gift she has ever given him, and Matt melts at it every time.

"Thank you," he whispers again. Her lips are close enough that he can feel her smile more than he can see it.

Zarra kisses him again, another sweet brush of her lips, and then she kisses his cheek while her fingers trace once more down the line of his throat. Matt tilts his head to the side for her, baring his neck, welcoming the warm, lingering kiss she presses to his neck now, purring all the while.

Matt sighs deeply, lets his breathing become a meditative rhythm, calming and reassuring to both the two of them and their fellow Commanders. This is just what he needed.

Zarra smiles against his skin and Matt, on instinct, lets his hand slip from her waist to the small of her back. This was clearly the right thing to do, because her purring gets a bit louder. Kartok chuckles lowly, relaxed and warm, happily bearing witness to the little display.

With an odd little combined purr and hum, Zarra pulls her mouth from Matt's throat and then tilts her own head back.

It takes Matt a moment to process the intent of the gesture, but when it finally clicks, his eyes go wide.

“Zarra. Are you…” He swallows the rest of the question. She knows what she’s doing, what she’s offering, her determination echoed in the warm orange of her eyes as she gazes at him. Another slow curl of a smile parts her lips. She doesn’t speak but she doesn’t need to, Matt can hear the whisper of _Amatus_ without her even needing to voice it.

Matt leans down and lightly brushes a kiss to her cheek, almost laughing at the shiver that runs down her spine when he moves to the spot right below her ear and presses an infinitely soft kiss there. The hum of her pulse is steady under his lips, and Matt closes his eyes again. This is something special. Something to cherish.

“Thank you,” he whispers once more, tucking his face against the soft, downy feel of her fur, nosing at the delicate arch of her neck, just so he can feel her shiver again.

“You do not need to thank me.” Zarra shifts in the embrace so she can look at Matt. “You are the one that stops my world from turning.”

“And you’re the steady ground beneath my feet,” Matt responds instantly, smiling down at her.

Zarra’s mouth arches into a smile as she laughs softly, then tucks her face into his chest. Something settles in Matt when he hears her light purr start up once again.

Her voice comes muffled through his shirt. “Leilani, your love is sweet and I cherish it dearly, but I would like to be able to taste my dinner tonight.”

The music of Kartok’s deep laugh leads them all to lightness as he wraps an arm around Leilani’s waist and presses a kiss to their cheek. They giggle, not quite apologetic, and Matt can’t help but chuckle as the mood in the entire room lifts. Suddenly it’s easier to breathe through the laughter of his kin.

Matt drops another quick kiss to the top of Zarra’s head when, over her, he catches the slide of the door opening.  
  
“Welcome back, Princess,” Leilani says, voice sweet and warm. Matt doesn’t look away from Zarra, but he doesn’t have to to know the smile that graces Leilani’s lips, or to know that Kartok is pressed close against their side. “And welcome to you as well, Shiro.”  
  
“Go to him,” Zarra murmurs, nosing at his cheek once more before pulling away from him until they’re linked only by their hands. Instantly Matt misses the warmth of her in his arms, but his heart springs to action at her words. He should go to Shiro, should hold him and kiss him and apologize for laying so much baggage at his feet, tell him that no matter what’s happened Matt’s own heart is the same.

Matt raises their joined hands, kissing Zarra’s knuckles lightly to the tune of Allura’s voice, speaking in soft tones to Leilani and Kartok. It earns him a soft laugh, what he will swear till his dying day is a giggle, even if Zarra will never admit it, and it’s the perfect note to part on.

He turns to face Shiro, grinning and eager to reunite even after just these few minutes apart. Matt expects worried eyes, a small smile, maybe even a hand reaching for his own… but that’s not what he finds at all.

Shiro won’t even look at him. He stands back toward the door, at Allura’s shoulder, and when Matt catches a glimpse of his eyes all he sees is dark sadness behind the gray.

A spring of worry rises suddenly in his chest, a trickle of doubt in his mind, the fear that Matt’s story changed something.

“Matthew?”

Matt blinks, startled by the low pulse of Kartok’s voice. “What?” he forces his attention to settle, and finds the rest of the room waiting on him. “Sorry. I—What did you say?”

“I asked if you were ready to continue on,” Kartok says, perfectly calm. Matt chances a glance to Allura—looking at him with a guarded, sad expression—and Shiro, who has discomfort pouring off him in waves. Almost as a counter to them, Leilani and Zarra stand with Kartok, radiating nothing but warmth and welcome and love.

Matt nods slowly. He doesn’t know what’s going on with Shiro, is reeling from his emotions riding both high and low, but they still have a job to do. Everything else can wait—it has to.


	6. Chapter 6

Matt’s so frustrated he thinks he’s gonna scream.

Two hours. The meeting lasted two fucking hours, and Shiro wouldn't look at him once. Not when Allura worked up the courage to speak to him and they had an actual conversation about the Hub systems and the Coalition information network, not when Leilani got excited and started asking about the lions, and not when they brought the discussions to a close and it came time to part.

Not a single glance.

His arms are crossed tightly across his chest as he paces his room, trying to work out restless energy whose source he can’t quite name. So much has happened just in the last—what, twelve hours? Matt isn’t even sure the whole thing hasn’t been a convoluted dream that’ll leave him wrung out when he wakes. Shiro and Pidge…

He’s just seen Pidge though, he pulled her from the Hub when the shift change kicked in and hugged her tight. She’s real, she’s here, not a dream just waiting to slip through his fingers.

With a low growl he flings himself down on his bed. He feels like a teenager again for a moment, sulking in his room when he should be doing something about the problem.

Doing something. He has to do something. He needs to talk to Shiro, right? That’s what he should do.

How is he supposed to talk to him if Shiro won’t even look his way? He wouldn’t even wait long enough for Matt to _try_ and get him alone before following Allura out of the meeting to check on the other paladins.

Shiro can be an elusive fucker when he wants to be. Matt’s got more than one memory from the Garrison of Shiro being conveniently absent when the higher ups wanted to parade him around for some investors for the program. All it took was a flash of his ‘Golden Boy’ smile and his general pleasantness and all was forgiven.

If Shiro doesn’t want to talk to Matt… there really isn’t anything Matt can do about it.

Right?

Matt frowns at his ceiling.

He closes his eyes for a few moments, forcing deep breaths that don’t do much to calm the panic buzzing beneath his skin. He’s got to try, at the very least.

Heaving himself up to sit, Matt reaches for the wrist comm he’d tossed carelessly onto his desk when he entered the room and straps it on. He’s getting to his feet when it buzzes.

Answering is more out of habit than anything else. “Holt.”

“Good evening, Commander.” Martek’s voice is calm, which shouldn’t spark the flare of annoyance that it does.

“What do you need, Martek? I’m kind of in the middle of something important.” Matt narrows his eyes at the wall console he’d had installed too long ago to really remember when. Maybe he could access !oshi’s servers and get a look at the ‘guest’ layout for the base quarters. They’re too consistently organized not to have gotten the paladin lodgings all official and squared away already.

“The Black Paladin contacted me to ask for your room number, sir. I believe he will be there shortly. I thought it warranted some warning.”

Matt freezes mid step toward his console. “...Really?”

“If you believe that I am passing along misinformation, sir, then I am not performing properly as your second in command.” The faint hum in the background of the call tells Matt that Martek is still in the Hub. Matt definitely told him to go to bed when he came and fetched Pidge before.

“I’m not accusing you of lying,” Matt sighs. “That was… disbelief, I guess. I don’t know. Thanks for the warning.”

“Of course, Commander.”

“Now go the fuck to sleep, Martek.”

A half-amused, half-resigned huff is the answer he gets.

“I’m serious. Go. The night shift will survive without you.”

Martek sighs. “Yes, Commander. Goodnight.” A brief pause. “Enjoy yourself with the Black Paladin, sir.”

Little shit. “Goodnight, Martek.” Matt shakes his head fondly as the call ends. He needs to set Martek up with some kind of social life.

Shiro is coming to him. Or at least that was something on his mind, if he’d gone asking for Matt’s room number. “If he’d stuck around and talked to me I could have told him myself,” Matt mutters, carding a hand roughly through his hair. Christ. What now? Does he sit and wait here for Shiro to maybe show, or go looking for him first?

He wavers over the decision long enough that by the time he gets to the door, hand hovering over the pad to open it, there’s a knock.

Shiro looks startled that the door opens so quickly, though he’s half turned away from it already.

“Matt,” he chokes out. “I—”

“Come in.” Matt steps aside to clear the way, hoping his voice sounds more sure than he feels.

Shiro’s passage through the doorway seems to take eons. He’s clearly hesitating with every step, eyes roaming over the newly revealed interior of Matt’s room, yet still never alighting on Matt himself.

Matt swallows nerves. He manages to keep himself together until Shiro gets to about the center of his room, but it’s Matt. He’s never really had much in the way of impulse control.

“So are you going to look at me any time soon?”

Shiro actually jumps at the question, but it gets his eyes to finally meet Matt’s.

“What?”

Matt crosses his arms, looser than when he’d been pacing alone, but still making a clear statement. “You haven’t looked at me since you and Allura came back to the meeting.”

“I’m looking at you now, aren’t I?”

“That’s a copout, and I don’t appreciate it.” Matt frowns. “What’s wrong, Shiro?” His arms wind tighter in front of his chest. “Is it what I said?”

Shiro swallows hard, his gaze flitting away again before he forces himself to meet Matt’s eyes. “It’s… nothing.”

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit.”

A frown creases Shiro’s brow. “It’s not—”

“We’re too old to play this game,” Matt interrupts dryly. “We’ve been through too much shit. Both of us. Something is wrong. Things may have changed— _we_ may have changed—but I know you, Takashi. Please, tell me."

Shiro hesitates, just staring at Matt. Matt shifts his weight on the legs. He’s spent hours wishing Shiro would just glance his way, and now he has his full attention. Being under Shiro’s total focus has always been an experience, to say the least, but never has it made Matt anything but happy before.

“Takashi,” he prompts again, voice softer. “Please.”

“What if…” Shiro starts, turning in place so he’s facing Matt head on. “What if I don’t know how to say it?”

There’s something vulnerable about the way Shiro says it, a contrast to how tense he is and how closed off he feels. Matt frowns and unwinds his arms.

“I don’t need a dissertation,” he says, crossing the space between them. “It doesn’t need to be anything thought out and presentation-ready.” He offers Shiro a smile, reaching out to gently take his hand. Shiro lets him, which only encourages Matt more. “Just tell me what’s on your mind.”  

It takes Shiro a second before he blinks and blurts out, “Why didn’t you tell me about her?”

Matt is honestly confused for a moment. He blinks back at Shiro, trying to read his disquieted face, before it clicks. “What—Zarra?”

“Of course Zarra,” Shiro huffs. His eyes shutter.

“Hey, no, don’t do that,” Matt chides gently. He raises a hand to Shiro’s face, brushing his fingertips ever so delicately along his jaw. Shiro leans into the touch, however light it is, and Matt just melts. “What about Zarra?” he asks softly.

“Matt, come on,” Shiro sighs, eyes slipping shut. “I was there. I’m not blind.”

“Didn’t think you were, handsome.” Matt drops his hand from Shiro’s face. “But I do think you’re misinterpreting.”

Shiro frowns as he blinks his eyes open. “How can you say that?”

“Cliché as it sounds, it’s not what you think,” Matt says softly.

“Oh, that’s reassuring. That always ends well.” Shiro’s eyes drag to the side again, his mouth tightening.

“You have a psychic soul bond with my sister, Keith, two other guys and five sentient mechanical lions that run on the power of friendship.” Matt arches a brow at Shiro. “Or at least that’s what your princess made it sound like. You really want to sit there and get all judgey and assume you know what’s going on with me and Zarra?”

Shiro’s expression tightens further. “I haven’t seen you in three years, Matt. It’s not crazy to think that—that you—”  
  
“I didn’t replace you.”

Shiro falls silent at the interruption.

“I didn’t,” Matt murmurs, reaching down to take Shiro’s hand. “That’s not what that is with Zarra. I—God, I didn’t even think about having our kind of relationship with anyone else. Ask Leilani, they’ll tell you. They tried to set me up more than once.”

“Matt, I don’t want to—”

“Takashi.” His voice is soft, carefully modulated away from the irritation that swims deep in his gut. “Please, just listen. Sit with me?”

With a hesitant nod, Shiro lets himself be led to perch at the edge of Matt’s bed, his tension keeping him straight-backed. Matt sighs as he sinks onto the mattress.

“I didn’t replace you, or move on, or whatever you think I did.” Matt keeps his gaze on their hands for the moment. “I love you. I asked you just before if you still wanted to be my boyfriend,” Matt reminds him. “Remember that?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Shiro sighs. “I was there. But that was… heat of the moment. Everything was so—intense?” He sighs again, shifting the grip on their hands so his fingers can wind between Matt’s own. “It was rushed and frantic and… you’re so comfortable with her.”

“Of course I’m comfortable with Zarra.” Matt looks up at Shiro, frowning when his bangs flop into his eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I meant what I said to you any less. I love you, Takashi. With all my heart, I always have.”

Shiro sighs again, shaking his head as his gaze drops to his lap. He quietly says, “I love you too.”

“We haven’t seen each other in three years,” Matt murmurs. “And I’ve been—close with Zarra for a while now. No interrupted time. As much as I love you, we’ve both changed a lot, so it makes sense that things are weird right now, doesn’t it?”

Shiro pauses before asking, “How close _are_ you?”

Yeah, he should have known Shiro would be fairly quick to ask that.

“We’re kin,” Matt supplies, fully expecting the confusion that crosses Shiro’s face. “It’s a bond, a connection. Something deep and emotional.” He’s parroting back what Martek told him so long ago. Matt has to smile thinking about it. “It’s family, and it’s love.”

“Okay…” Shiro’s brow furrows, something like understanding flickering to life in his eyes. He seems to be mulling it over.

“It’s not just Zarra I’m kin with,” Matt continues on. “Leilani and Kartok are part of it too. We’re in it all together. Honestly, from what you’ve all said, it seems a lot like the Voltron thing you’ve got going, minus the melding of the minds. Closest we’ve got is empath weirdness, but it’s nothing like that.” He manages a small smile.

“Yeah.” Shiro nods slowly. “It does sound like that, a bit. But… you didn’t look so close with the other Commanders. And I’m definitely not like that with the paladins.” His voice is soft, as if he doesn’t want to say the words out loud.

“I’m close with Leilani and Kartok, just in different ways.” Matt pauses, considering how to best explain it. “There’s different levels of kin. Like, Leilani and Kartok? They’re pretty romantically based. I mean Lani is super tactile with everyone, it’s just how they are, but with Kartok it’s this whole other level. They’ve been together almost fifteen years. It’s…” Matt shakes his head, smiling just at the thought of how _right_ Leilani and Kartok are for each other. “And Kartok is really protective of Zarra, even though he knows she can handle herself. He gets like that with me too, but it’s more in a… big brothery kind of way? I don’t know if I’m explaining this right at all.” Matt laughs, quiet and unsure. He’s never had to explain his kin bonds before.

“I think I’m getting it.” Shiro shifts, gently squeezing Matt’s hand. “What about you and Zarra? You still haven’t answered me that, Matt.”

“Zarra is… a little different,” Matt admits, pausing to organize his thoughts. He’s got to be gentle with this, because it would be so easy to crush Shiro with the reality of his bond with Zarra. “With her it’s—more. More intense, it’s deeper. We click on a different level and she just… gets me.”

Doubt clouds thick in Shiro’s eyes. “I see…”

“But that has nothing to do with how I feel about you.” Matt tightens his grip on Shiro’s hand. “I love you. I’m in love with you, Shiro. That has not and will not ever, _ever,_ change.” He swallows around all the words caught in his throat, all the things he wants to say and can’t quite make happen. “I don’t say things I don’t mean. I can’t afford to. So when I say I love you, I mean that, in every sense there could possibly be.”

“I love you too,” Shiro whispers, almost too quiet to be heard. “I always have. It’s just been so—much. So much.” His gaze drops to his lap.

“I know.” Matt scoots a bit closer to Shiro on the bed, so they’re pressed hip to hip, Matt’s prosthetic leg right up against Shiro’s. He pauses for a moment, fingers lingering in Shiro’s, before he draws his hand away.

Shiro glances up with a small frown but Matt is already sliding his hand to Shiro’s jaw and pulling him into a sweet kiss.

He lets out a tiny noise of surprise before he sinks into it. “Matt,” he breathes.

It’s a slightly awkward position but honestly, fuck it. It’s been three years. He’ll take anything he can get right now—head tilted to an uncomfortable position, spine creaking with the effort, none of it matters when his boyfriend’s warm hand settles on his waist and tugs him just that much closer.

Once they’re both engaged in the kiss, it’s so easy to really lose themselves to it. Shiro’s hand is a steady guide, slipping to Matt’s lower back, fingers spread wide.

With a groan Matt silently admits to himself that his back isn’t going to sustain its unnatural twist without serious consequences later, so he breaks away from Shiro gently. “Gotta change how we’re sitting if we want to keep this up,” he breathes.

“Come here.” Shiro presses at his back, tugging him back closer. Matt laughs as Shiro pulls him practically into his lap. 

It’s much easier now to press as close as Matt wants, leaning into the kiss and running one hand through the familiar short-clipped hair at the back of Shiro’s head. God he missed this. It’s bizarre how so much can be different, yet that one little thing—a haircut—takes him right back to hundreds of nights in their dorm at the Garrison.

“How the hell are you keeping your hair so neat?” Matt murmurs against Shiro’s lips, grinning when Shiro laughs. “I know you’re all secretly vain, baby, but surely you can let it slip a little. You let Keith walk around with his mullet.”

“Don’t get started on the mullet,” Shiro laughs again, teeth just skimming Matt’s lower lip. “Took forever for Lance to leave him alone about it… but how about we don’t talk about my team at all while I’m trying to kiss you?”

“I like the way you think, handsome.” Matt kisses him before Shiro can mutter any protests, shifting so he can carefully straddle Shiro’s lap, being mindful of his legs. He’s a damn sight more flexible than he used to be, so he can sink down low, with his legs spread easily, and press even closer while their hips line up too perfectly. Shiro groans low into his mouth.

“Shit, Matt…”

“I know,” Matt breathes, grinning wide. “I know, baby, I know. Kiss me, come on, don’t wait.” Already heat stirs low in his gut, it’s crazy how overwhelmed he feels.

“I missed that.” Shiro kisses him as directed, pressing his murmur against Matt’s lips while the hand on his back starts to roam a little lower.

“What?”

“You calling me baby,” Shiro laughs. His hand sneaks under the hem of Matt’s shirt to press against the curve of his back. Fire races up Matt’s spine, a mix of desire and the warmth of Shiro’s palm. The prosthetic hand cups Matt’s jaw, so much cooler, yet every bit as gentle.   
  
Matt presses in, keenly aware of every place their bodies meet from thighs to lips. His skin burns under the brush of Shiro’s fingers up his back, his own hand playing with the collar of Shiro’s shirt.

“Can I…” Matt pulls back just enough to meet Shiro’s eyes as he tugs at his shirt.

Shiro swallows hard. “Um—maybe not now.” He drops his gaze, unsure, but Matt catches his chin gently with a hand, and smile.

“No worries.” It’s the work of no more than a moment to capture Shiro’s lips once again, to tease with his tongue, to steal a taste of him. Shiro melts against him, the softest of sighs slipping free between kisses.  
  
Matt’s hand presses against Shiro’s chest, thumb brushing skin, the hard ridge of his collarbone. The steady beating of his heart is quick under Matt’s palm. He smiles, nipping lightly on Shiro’s lip.

“Your heart’s racing,” Matt whispers.

“I know,” Shiro breathes back, lips pulling up in a smile.

Matt exhales in a rush, pressing forward until Shiro has to give up and fall back against the bed. His gray eyes are bright with desire when they blink up at Matt.

Matt’s own heart is racing now, too.

“Hi.” Matt grins around the murmur, his voice barely a warm buzz in the silence of his room. “Come here often?”

“Sadly no.” Shiro’s hand slips higher up his back. “Hoping to maybe change that, if you’ll have me.”

“Your lines are so lame.” Matt laughs, stealing another breathless kiss. “Oh my God.”

“You always fell for them, though,” Shiro points out.

“Still do.” Matt arranges himself to lay on top of Shiro, every inch held close. He frames his forearms around Shiro’s face and grimaces at the comm still strapped to his arm. “This fucking thing…”

Shiro hums in light confusion at the change of focus, turning his head to watch as Matt unfastens the comm from his wrist and tosses it in the direction of his desk. “Careful with that.”

“I’ll build a new one if I have to.” Matt doesn’t even glance to see where it landed before his attention returns in full to _Shiro, Shiro, Shiro_. Shiro beneath his hands and his lips and his chest and hips, Shiro breathing and moving in his space, Shiro opening up beneath him, his fingers slipping into Matt’s hair. 

His name on Shiro’s lips, his skin under Shiro’s touch—

_Ding!_

His _fucking_ comm.

_Ding!_

“I swear to fucking God,” Matt snaps, dropping his head heavily to the bed alongside Shiro’s. “I don’t even want to know.”

“So don’t answer it,” Shiro murmurs, pressing kisses to Matt’s temple, his cheek, the shell of his ear. Matt shivers, biting hard on his lip. Another _ding!_ pierces the air. Fuck.

“Ignoring it’s not really an option, baby.” Matt sighs, already pushing himself up on his hands. “I’m gonna fucking kill Martek.”

Shiro sits up clumsily as Matt stumbles over to the discarded comm, watching with worried eyes. “Do you have to—”

“This is Holt,” Matt grumbles as he picks up.

“Commander Holt!” Martek’s voice is thick with panic. “Sir, one of our pods has just docked on deck 3. We cannot make contact with the crew, and we can’t get the pod open!”

“Fuck.” Matt jolts immediately into action, strapping the comm back on as he strides toward the door. “I’m on my way to the hangars. Meet me there?”

“Yes sir, I’m almost there now.”

“No one was supposed to be coming back tonight,” Matt says sharply. “Right?”

“No sir. The next scheduled return is Beta One.”

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck,”_ Matt mutters to himself, ice seeping into his veins. He opens the door and nearly runs right out it, pausing only when he remembers Shiro, left flushed and mussed on the bed. “I—I’m sorry. I know we were just—Shiro, I have to go.”

“What’s going on?” Shiro frowns as he sits up. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t really know yet. Something’s wrong, we got a team back early and they’re not responding… I’m sorry, Shiro, I _have_ to go.”

“Don’t apologize,” Shiro surprises Matt, pushing off the bed and to his feet. “You’ve got to check on your team. I’d do the exact same.” Straightening out his shirt quickly, Shiro joins him at the door. “Can I come with you?”

Matt blinks. “You want to?”

“Of course.” Shiro’s smile is small. “I want to be with you.”

Matt pauses, unable to do anything but gape for a moment. “I love you,” he breathes, leaning up to steal a kiss, nothing gentle, but all too quick. Matt breaks it before Shiro can do more than smile at his lips, taking his hand and holding on tight. “Come on.”

Together they hurry through the halls, Matt all but pulling Shiro along in a tense silence. His mind is racing. Beta One isn’t due back until tomorrow at the earliest, but they’re the only team he’s got out on active infiltration and recon right now. Things had been going well, they’d checked in that morning as scheduled, Matt had talked to them himself. Beta One is a young, talented team, the first round of Strike operatives green lit from the pre-Alpha training program to run a solo mission entirely on their own. It had been going so well.

Something like dread solidifies in Matt’s gut. He quickens his pace, grip painfully tight on Shiro’s hand, though Shiro doesn’t say a word about it.

They make it to the hangar in record time and Matt drops Shiro’s hand as he strides toward his second. The few night shift techs that should be manning the hangar have scattered, so only Martek stands at a stationary console, just a bit away from the recently docked pod. A quick scan over it shows some dents, a bit of wear and tear, but nothing out of the ordinary... everything looks like it should be fine. Matt frowns, tearing his gaze away and focusing on Martek for the moment.

“Martek.”

“Commander!” Martek is swamped with worry as he frantically hits commands on the hangar console, trying everything he can to force the pod open. “Commander Zarra and Ortraz are on their way—they may have told the other Pillars, I don’t know—”

“Martek,” Matt repeats firmly, laying a hand on his second’s arm. “Breathe. We can’t figure out what’s going on and help them if we’re panicked.” He shoves down the roiling fear in his own stomach.

“We checked the identification numbers, sir—it’s Beta One,” Martek informs him, quietly fearful. “It’s their pod, at least.”

A wave of nausea flares through Matt.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “ _Fuck_. No contact, you said?”

“None at all. We’re not sure if their comms are damaged or just not turned on—but I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t—”

“Yeah, no, they’re not me,” Matt says, a weak attempt at joking to ward off the tremble in his limbs. “Zetri would never fly without her comms connected.”

Martek’s brow furrows, and he doesn’t respond. Matt leans over him to key in his command override code. If there’s something wrong with the pod’s internal tech, that should shut down all major systems and force the hatch to unlock and open.  

He waits with bated breath as the code is accepted… and absolutely nothing changes.

“Shit,” Matt breathes, blood running cold. “They’re on a manual lockdown. Something's definitely wrong.”

He almost doesn’t notice Shiro’s quiet approach, jumping about a foot in the air at the warm, gentle hand that settles on his back.

“Can I do anything?” Shiro asks softly. Matt shakes his head with a jerk.

“I don’t even know if _I_ can do anything…”

He pulls away from his love’s touch and is halfway to the pod, ready to do God knows what—he’ll force the damn thing open with his hands if he has to—when Leilani sweeps through the hangar doors.

“Matthew!” They rush right to him, the skirts of their dress flurrying wildly around their legs. “What is going on?”

“It’s Beta One. Communications are out, and the pod is in a manual lockdown.” Matt’s reaching for Leilani without even thinking about it, swaying into the warmth of their touch, the bitter tang tickling his tongue at their approach more soothing than it ought to be. “I—we gotta get the hatch open, I need to get inside.”

“Be easy, Starling,” Leilani soothes. “We will get to them, I promise. We must keep a clear head to do so.”

“You think if I ask the pod nicely to open up it’d listen?” Matt mutters, leaning desperately into Leilani’s hands as two cup gently at his cheeks. “I’ll even use all my manners and give a dignitary bow.”

“Charming as you are, I do not think the pod would be persuaded.” Leilani brushes a kiss to his brow. “Breathe.”

He closes his eyes for them, following the drag of their breathing in and out, until Martek interrupts with a sharp, “Commanders!”

“What do you have?” Matt demands, whipping around to face the console. Shiro stands just a bit back from the scene, frowning deeply at whatever he’s seeing over Martek’s shoulder.

“I got a signal through, sir. I have… bio signs.”

Matt does not like the way color is leaching from Martek’s face as he scans the readings.

“Martek,” he says hoarsely. “Tell me.”

Martek’s expression tightens before he looks up at his Commander. “We need to get in there _now.”_

With a growl, Matt whips around, pulling himself from Leilani’s grasp. He casts about wildly, ignoring the call of his name. He’s not sure who’s calling for him, Leilani, Martek, or Shiro, can’t really hear them over them buzzing in his ears.

There’s a crowbar resting on a cart of tools that Matt snatches up without hesitation, his legs carrying him straight toward the pod. He jams one end of the crowbar into the seam of the door.

“Commander Holt!” Martek shouts. “Sir, please, forcing the hatch is a fruitless endeavor. Please let me—”

“You have five seconds!” Matt snaps. “Five, Martek, or I’ll tear this shit apart on my own!”

“Matthew.” Leilani steps forward.

“Do _not_ tell me to be easy right now, Lani, I’ll fucking lose it!”

“I was not planning to.” They fold their hands together before them, seemingly calm. But their eyes are sad, their brow furrowed, and their worry sits thick and viscous in Matt’s mouth.

Martek gasps and Matt looks over to see the pod door crack the tiniest bit away from its locked position—just enough that he can help it further open.

As he goes in on the crowbar again, forcing the door open inch by strained inch, Matt calls into the pod, “This is Commander Holt! Zetri, Ileena, Adaar—can you hear me?”

Deafening silence is the only response he gets.

Dread curls tight around his chest and Matt pulls all the harder. The edge of the crowbar bites hard into his palms, threatens to break the skin, tension gathers tight in his shoulder. He curses under his breath before letting out a roar of effort.

Something gives or breaks—Matt doesn't know, he doesn't care—and the door comes down, heavy, nearly knocking him out under its weight, but he vaults inside before that can process... and freezes once he's inside.

It's a bloodbath.

Two of his team lie splayed out on the pod floor, bloody, marred, their helmets cracked and throats slit. Dead.

Nausea claws at his throat in direct time with blinding fury, stilled only by the sight of the one remaining member slumped over in the pilot's chair, breath coming too fast.

Zetri.

Matt screams for Leilani.

He’s falling to his knees on the bloody floor at Zetri’s side before he hears Leilani’s soft, horrified gasp. In moments they’re with him—both him and Zetri—hands settled gently on either side of the young Galran’s head.

“Zetri,” Matt whispers, voice cracking. “Zetri, it’s Commander Holt.”

With great effort she blinks one eye open, the other swollen shut. “Commander?” she rasps. “C-commander Holt. I’m sorry, sir…”

“Hey, none of that.” Matt shakes his head firmly, taking hold of one of her shaking, bloodied hands. “Zetri, pup. Focus on me. Tell me what happened.”

“We tripped notice,” Zetri manages, weakly turning her head in Leilani’s hands. “Got the data, finished the mission protocols, but as we were heading into extraction…” A whimper breaks in her voice, a low pained thing that just breaks Matt’s heart. Leilani hushes her gently, eyes closed and focused on their healing.

The metallic taste that floods his tongue comes fast and sharper than Matt can ever remember. He’s not sure if that’s a good sign or not.

“Be easy, young one,” Leilani breathes, thumbs lightly stroking through the matted blood at Zetri’s temples.

Zetri’s one working eye closes tightly and she swallows back her pain to continue with a weak, “They were waiting for us, sir.”

“Any idea how they figured it out?” Matt murmurs. He hates questioning her like this, absolutely hates it, but he has to know. He has to know where he went wrong, where they were unprepared.

“I-I don’t know.” She curls the fingers of her free hand tightly into a fist, her claws sharp and exposed. Matt takes her other hand, holding both of hers between his own. He doesn’t want her to hurt herself further. As soon as she feels the smoothness of his skin she stops and her claws retract. She’s always so sweet and considerate like that. “I don’t know… There was an alert, something about a high priority sighting and we didn’t… we didn’t know the protocol. One of the officers got suspicious and I don’t… I’m so sorry Commander, I didn’t see the signs, w-we should have gotten out sooner…”

“It’s okay,” Matt soothes. “You’re okay, pup. It’s not your fault, you didn’t know.”

Leilani’s eyes open with a soft, pained gasp, the metal taste washing away with a new wave of bitterness to take its place. Matt looks up at them, desperately clinging to hope in his chest. There’s only a well of profound sadness in the vibrant blue of their eyes.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck fuck, no no he can’t lose this team, he can’t lose her, this isn’t—why didn’t they have the protocol? Why didn’t they know? He—

He can’t do this now. Matt can’t lose himself to this. Not when Zetri needs him so badly.

“What hurts, pup?” Matt asks, gently squeezing her hands. Her eye opens, noticeably dimmer now, even as she’s clearly fighting to keep her focus.

“At the risk of sounding cheeky, sir… everything hurts.” The weakest of smiles pulls at her lips, a shadow of the bright grin she usually sports.

“That was kind of a stupid question wasn’t it?” Matt asks, a broken laugh at his lips.

“N-never stupid, Commander.” Her smile lasts for a few moments longer, before it slips away, her gaze catching sight of the body closest to Matt on the floor. “I…” She chokes. “I’m sorry sir… I tried to get everyone back alive… I’m so—”

“Hush, you got them home,” he whispers. He reaches up to brush away a drop of blood seeping from a cut on her cheek and she leans into the touch with a quiet whimper that breaks his heart. “You did so well, pup, I’m proud of you. You got them home.”

Zetri draws a shuddering breath that makes Leilani frown. “Jion…”

“He is coming,” Leilani murmurs to her. “Ortraz and Commander Zarra went to get him.”

She shakes her head, desperate and sharp. “Don’t—he shouldn’t see…”

“It’s okay, shh.” Matt lets her lean her head more into his palm. The weight of it is so much heavier than she would have ever allowed before, the fatigue of blood loss and God knows what other injuries seeping into her bones. “If you don’t want him here, we won’t let him.” He pauses for a moment before speaking again. “I promise.”

Leilani’s eyes flick to him, surprised, and so _so_ sad. They know his rule about promises: He doesn’t make them. Ever.  

She make an attempt at a nod. “Thank you Commander.” There seems to be a struggle for more words, but ever his stubborn fighter, Zetri perseveres. “The data, sir—”

“I don’t care about that,” Matt says quickly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“We got it.” Another shadow of a smile. “Got it and wiped their drives clean. Adaar has it. On his belt…”

“You’re too good, pup,” Matt laughs, hating the wavering sound as it reaches his ears. He traces his thumb along the high arch of her cheek gently, smearing though more blood that’s hot to the touch. Zetri whimpers again, and his heart shatters.

She deserves better than this.

Leilani brushes Zetri’s bangs off her forehead, soothing her gently as her breathing starts to get a little more shallow, a little faster. “Relax, young one. We have you now. Rest easy.”

“You’re safe.” Matt holds tighter to her hand. He can’t tell if she’s still shaking, or if that’s him now. “You’re home. I’ve got you.”

Her nod is slow and unsteady as she struggles for breath, her one good eye drifting half-closed. Matt meets Leilani’s gaze, begging silently for them to do whatever they can, to do anything at all to ease his poor pup’s pain. Zetri is fading fast and he’ll do anything he can to help her.

Leilani nods, tears welling thick before they close their eyes. Zetri lets out a shuddering sigh. Her fingers relax slightly in Matt’s hand.

“It’s okay,” he whispers again. “You got everyone home. You can rest.”

“I’m sorry,” Zetri croaks, so much softer, her voice barely there. “Commander Holt—”

“Zetri, stop.” Matt swallows hard against the lump in his throat.  “I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

A smile pulls again at her lips, stronger than the others. “Thank you, sir,” she breathes out. “Always an honor to follow your command…”

“Always an honor to have you,” Matt whispers. “Be easy, pup. You deserve a good rest.”

Zetri breathes out what might have been a laugh, she closes her eye, and then she doesn’t breathe again.

Matt pulls his shaking hand back as Zetri goes still. He tears his gaze away from her, looking up at Leilani. “We can’t let Jion see this,” he says, voice cracked. “Not until she’s cleaned up.”

They shake their head. “Of course not. Take your time, Starling, I will have Martek call the morgue crew. If Jion is here, would you like me to tell him?” they ask softly.

“No, it—it should be me. I’m their Commander. _Was_ their Commander,” he corrects himself, swallowing hard.

“ _Are_ their Commander.” Leilani corrects gently, offering him a hand to help him to his feet. “They are your team, Starling. Death does not change that.”

At the mention of the actual word, Matt crumples in on himself. His team, his kids, are _dead._ He missed some signal, some protocol, and failed to give them the information that would have saved three lives.

Leilani hugs him, nice and tight. “Starling,” they coo, lips brushing his forehead. “Oh sweet Matthew.”

“They’re dead,” Matt whispers, unable to feel anything but guilt and the pain of loss. “I…Their first mission alone…” He shakes his head, hands curling into tight fists at his side. “I thought they were ready, I thought I’d prepared them…”

“They _were_ ready.” Leilani pulls back enough so that to of their hands can frame his face. “You cannot blame yourself for every death under your command. You did everything you could have, Starling—there are always mistakes.”

He clenches his fist as he chokes out, “They were so _young,_ Lani. They were so young and I got them killed.”

“You did not,” they tell him firmly, a frown creasing their lovely brow. “You are not responsible for their deaths—only those who struck the blows.”

Matt shakes his head, not really in disagreement, just because—what else is he supposed to do? His team is dead, lying slaughtered at his feet, their young lives ended so abruptly. What is he supposed to do?

He looks around, forces himself to face his two other Betas. Closest to him is Adaar, his eyes blank as they stare unseeing up at the ceiling of the pod. Matt breaks Leilani’s embrace, leaning down so he can close Adaar’s eyes. Give him some sense of peace. Only when he’s closer does he see how one hand is curled protectively over a pocket on his belt.

The data.

Oh his fucking heart can’t take this.

Silent tears finally fall from Matt’s eyes as he gently retrieves the data drive and arranges Adaar’s limbs into something that looks a little more restful. Even if the morgue crew will take care of everything, he can’t just leave them like this.

Leilani leaves him alone at his whispered request to cry and to close Ileena’s eyes as well, swallowing hard as he tries to avoid looking directly at the brutal, fatal wounds on the three bodies.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to each of them as he bows over their lifeless forms. “I’m so sorry.”

It takes several desperate minutes of shaking with silent sobs for Matt to collect himself enough to stand once again. He clutches the drive in his hand so hard that it bites into the skin of his palm as he stumbles toward the blood-smeared door. No one is visible in what he can see of the hangar outside the pod, but that doesn’t mean that others haven’t arrived.

Leilani waits for him, right outside the entrance, a silent and welcome support. They take his bloody hand in their own and hold on tight.   
  
“Are you alright?” they ask softly.   
  
“No,” Matt murmurs, swallowing back the burn of fresh tears. “Not at all.”

A soft noise of distress drags his attention away from Leilani, toward the small group gathered by the console. Martek is still there, eyes looking glassy, as is a confused but worried Shiro. With them stand Zarra, Ortraz, Kartok, and… Jion.

Matt can tell from the horrified look on Jion’s face as he notices the blood smeared over his Commander that the pup has put the pieces together.

“Jion,” Matt croaks, voice still wrecked by tears. “I’m so sorry.”

Jion’s ears press back as he shakes his head. “No, no—Commander—”

“Jion.” Matt steps forward, pulling away from Leilani. “Pup, I—”

“No!” Jion stumbles forward. “No, she can’t— _Sir!”_   
  
“Jion!” Martek pushes off the console, reaching for the Galran, but for all that Jion is a gangly mess, he still has a Galran’s natural grace and Martek can’t reach him before he’s starting for the pod.

“No, Jion!” Matt blocks the entrance to the pod bodily. “You can’t go in there.”

“Zetri!” Jion yells past his Commander, his voice breaking with fear and inevitable grief. _“Zetri!”_

Leilani reaches out, resting a hand on each of Jion’s shoulders. “Don’t,” they order softly. Their blue eyes are shrouded in sadness.

At Leilani’s touch Jion seems to shrink into himself, breaking down into wracking sobs as his fears are confirmed and denial is impossible.

“No,” he cries. “No!”

Leilani barely catches him as he falls to his knees. They hold him close, with gentle hands and a wash of calm that Matt can feel radiating out from them.   
  
“I’m sorry.” Matt rests a hand on Jion’s quaking shoulder. “She didn’t want you to see her like that. I told her I wouldn’t let you. I promised.”   
  
Matt hears the sharp intake of breath across the room from Kartok, and Zarra’s low growl. He closes his eyes tight when all it does is pull another sob from Jion. A low, protective fury grows with every cry, every wracked shudder of his pup’s frame.   
  
His team is dead. His kids. Zetri, Jion’s best friend, his de facto sister, his only family. Dead. The Empire killed them. _Murdered_ them.   
  
Alright then.

Matt breathes in deep, one, two, three times, and then he opens his eyes.   
  
“Jion,” he says, his voice calm and even. “Look at me.”   
  
Leilani closes their eyes to let more calm settle around Jion until he can look up at Matt. The fine fur on his cheeks is drenched with tears that still fall.

“I’ll take care of this.” Matt rests a steady hand on his pup’s shoulder. “They did their job, now I’ll do mine.” The steady thrum of anger straightens his spine and settles grimly on his face, his heart beating to the rhythm of _revenge revenge revenge._ “That’s a promise.”

“Commander Holt…” Jion looks up at him with wide, broken eyes. “Sir…”

“We know how I am about my promises, Jion.” Matt squeezes his shoulder. “Get on your feet. I think it’s time for Commander Leilani to take a look at you.”

“Come, Jion.” Leilani eases Jion up to stand, their strength more than enough to support the young Galran, not that he would fight the grip of one of his Pillars. Kartok moves quickly to settle himself at Jion’s other side, another column of warmth and support. The Coalition takes care of its own.  
  
Zarra claims the newly vacant place at his side before Matt even realizes she’s crossed the hangar. She takes his hand softly into her own and eases the data drive from his grip when she notices it.

“Amatus,” she whispers, only loud enough for Matt himself to hear.

He leans down, eyes closing, to rest their foreheads together. Neither of them need to speak for her to know what happens next.

“Martek,” Matt says. His eyes are still closed as one hand drifts to Zarra’s waist to take in more of her grounding presence. “Call the morgue if you haven’t yet. And get me a new pod.”

“Of course, sir. Right away.” Martek nods stiffly, his attention lingering on Jion even as his fingers pull up the necessary screens for him to fulfill his orders. Ortraz moves, a silent, looming shadow, to stand just behind Martek, his face closed off and shoulders tight.   
  
Martek pauses at the new body in his space, then glances up at his towering fellow second and reaches out a gentle hand to rest on Ortraz’s arm.

“Be easy,” he murmurs. Ortraz huffs softly and Martek rolls his eyes. “Stand there and glower if you must, Ortraz—I have work to do. But please make sure you glower into the screen when I call the hangar techs.”

Matt can’t help but smile at that, even while his fury burns brighter with every second. Zarra presses closer at his side, a smile flitting across her own lips as well.

“Matt?” The moment is shattered by Shiro’s voice, soft and hesitant. His eyes flit over Matt, no doubt taking in the blood that stains his skin and cakes onto his legs, as well as Zarra’s hand in Matt’s, the way her body curls into his. “What—what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to handle things,” Matt says, meeting Shiro’s gaze evenly. He straightens up, feeling the weight of his command settle heavy in his shoulders. “I’m going to kill them all.”


	7. Chapter 7

“I’m going to kill them all?”

“Yes.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“That’s literally what he—”

“Lance, that is what Matt said, verbatim.” Shiro sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “No variation, no exaggeration, nothing.”

Pidge sits cross-legged on the small sectional in the lounge nearest to the rooms they were all given. Hunk is at her side, frowning deeply in concern, but Pidge doesn’t look at him. Her eyes are downcast and she’s worrying her lip between her teeth. To say she’d taken the news of Matt’s sudden trip off base rather badly is an understatement. 

“Pidge?” Shiro wants to reach out to her, to offer comfort and reassurance, maybe seek some himself, but he can’t ignore the very clear ‘Don’t touch me’ vibes she’s putting off. “You okay? You’ve been pretty quiet.”

She shrugs. “I don’t know how I feel about my brother going on a murder mission.” She’s still determinedly avoiding making eye contact with any of them.

Hunk starts nervously, “You’re sure it’s  _ really _ a—”

_ “Yes,” _ Shiro cuts him off before the question can be asked for the twentieth time in half as many minutes. “He climbed in a pod alone with his sword and a blaster that Commander Zarra made him take.” Zarra—another thing gnawing at his stomach, though he’s not about to share those uncertainties with his team. Despite what Matt told him earlier about kin, it still seems like there’s something different between the two of them. Shiro sighs.   


Maybe he’s being ridiculous, overthinking things and reading too much into a relationship he’s not familiar with. But Matt spoke to her before leaving, pulled her aside, and they talked close and quiet with her hand curled at Matt’s neck. Shiro got a quick kiss, a tight smile, and a “Don’t wait up, handsome,” before Matt was just gone. 

Hard not to read into those differences.

“Because of three people?” Keith asks, voice tight. “He’s going to kill a whole Empire outpost over three people.”

“They were murdered, Keith.” Lance frowns deeply. “Slaughtered more like, from what Shiro said.”

“So that justifies him running off to cause even more death?” Keith demands, turning to face Lance sharply. “Who does that help?”

“Jion for starters.” Lance’s arms wind tight over his chest. “Matt’s Galra hacker, the one with the ears? He lost someone important to him with this. Or were you not listening to what Shiro said, like, at all? 

“She was a pilot,” Keith snaps. “She knew what she was getting into and she knew the risks—”

“I can’t believe you!”

Shiro sighs, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. He could really do without this song and dance right now. It’s so rare for Keith and Lance to  _ really _ get into it with each other anymore, but when they do… It’s best to nip it in the bud before things can take root. He glances to Pidge. She’s the one who usually steps in these days when they get going, but she makes no action to move and seems to barely be paying attention to the argument. 

Her being this out of it is probably what’s really setting the two of them on edge. Great.

Hunk catches Shiro’s eye, wide eyed and worried, silently asking  _ What do we do?  _

Shiro swallows back another sigh.

“Please, let’s just… not do this,” he says, trying not to sound like he’s begging. “I just wanted to let you guys know what’s up. We don’t need to make this into a morality issue, okay?”

A soft knock on the door precludes the protests already clearly bubbling in Lance and Keith. It slides open to reveal wide, sad blue eyes and a worried Commander Leilani.

“Paladins,” they say gently as they step inside. “I am sorry that you were all roused like this. Such circumstances are admittedly less rare than we would like them to be.” They sigh, hands folded in front of them. “I hoped I might seek a word alone with you, Shiro.”

“With me?” Shiro can’t help be surprised. 

“Yes. If you would not mind.” Leilani nods, a small smile crossing their lips. It barely changes their expression, but even just the upturn of the corners of their mouth sends Shiro a little breathless. They’re just so beautiful… it’s almost unnerving.

“Of course.” Shiro pushes to his feet, casting a look around at the rest of the Paladins. “You guys are free to go off back to what you were doing if you’d like. I’m not sure where Allura is—”

“She went to call Coran,” Hunk supplies, the barest quiver to his voice. “I was with her in the kitchen when Commander Kartok came and asked to speak with her… I guess to tell her about this, and then she went to call the castle.”

“Yes, Kartok was going to inform her.” Leilani pauses briefly, eyes alighting on the lonely little form of Pidge, tucked away by herself. “Pidge, would you join us as well?”

She looks up, startled. “Me?”

Leilani nods again. “Yes.”

Pidge blinks. “I—okay.” 

Keith frowns as she unwinds her arms and legs and stands. “Shiro… maybe we should stick together.” He shoots a cursory glance over at Leilani. 

“I’m with Keith,” Hunk says quickly, his teeth catching on his lower lip. “Should we really be splitting up with how crazy things are right now?” Hunk also looks at Leilani, but it’s wide eyed and open, hands up in front of his chest. “No offense, Commander. It’s just—”

“You do not trust me,” Leilani supplies, smiling still. “It is alright. I understand.”

Keith bristles, but apparently can’t find a retort. 

Shiro lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s fine, Keith. Don’t worry about us. I’ll come and find you when we’re done, if that makes you feel better.”

He looks irritated at the idea of needing to be consoled, but he nods jerkily and glances to Pidge. She offers him a smile, addressing his silent worries like only she can.

“Chill, Hotshot. We’ll be fine.”

“Just promise to check in before Keith pops a vein.” Lance flashes a smile, slinging an arm around Hunk’s shoulders. “For my sake if nothing else, otherwise he’ll start pacing and snarking.” It’s dripping with all his usual easy bravado, but Shiro easily reads the concern in his eyes. 

Shiro musters a smile for his team. “Don’t worry.” He pats Keith’s shoulder once more before raising his brows at Pidge, who nods and turns to leave.

Leilani smiles graciously. “Thank you. I promise to return them quickly and safely,” they tell the other paladins. They seem to wait until they’ve made eye contact with everyone, a brief but warm thing, before turning for the door.  

Shiro lets Pidge walk in front of him so he can follow at her back. He knows he must look like an unnecessarily protective and looming shadow, but he doesn’t care. Hovering helps to soothe the itch in his chest, the feeling of helplessness that began creeping up around him the minute Matt ran into the pod and screamed Leilani’s name. 

They follow the Commander into an elevator, where they smile sweetly again. “I would like to show you our command deck—there are such lovely views from there, and you will have an opportunity to see more of where Matthew works.”

Shiro almost frowns to hear Matt’s name coming from their mouth so easily after Zarra chastised Allura for the same thing, but the reminder that Leilani has been close to Matt in Shiro’s absence undercuts that annoyance with an ache.

Pidge, meanwhile, just nods quietly. “Yeah, that would be nice. I liked the Hub.”

“Yes, he mentioned he was able to bring you there.” Leilani laughs, a soft tinkling of bells. “I am glad. So often the Hub goes unseen. Matthew is very selective of who may get a tour, and so often our allies only see the finished work as he deems fit.”

Pidge wrinkles her nose. “That makes it sound like Matt has… real power.”

Leilani laughs again. Somehow it sounds fond. “I can imagine the changes you see in him are quite startling. He does not speak much of his life before, but it is fair to assume he was very different, yes?”

“Yes,” Shiro answers, soft and quick, catching himself by surprise. 

Pidge blinks up at him but stays silent.

Shiro takes a deep breath before continuing, as if compelled. “He was never… a leader.” He winces in embarrassment. “That sounds terrible. But—he was always just caught up in doing his own thing. Didn’t want to be responsible for other people. Except Pidge.”

Leilani nods, processing his words as the elevator slowly ascends. They still haven’t spoken when the doors slide open and the three of them step out into a large, open room. Instantly Shiro thinks of the castle, the soaring windows and the high ceilings that house each command station and Allura’s podium. The setup is eerily similar, just one more reminder of how closely linked Altea was with the Galra Empire once upon a time. 

“Here we are,” Leilani says, sweeping out both of the arms on one side of their body in a rather proud gesture encompassing the room. “This is the seat of the Coalition.”

Pidge’s eyes are immediately drawn to the tech, which surprises Shiro not at all, but his own gaze drifts toward the front of the ship and the expanse of stars glittering around them.

As he takes a few tentative steps forward, Leilani drifts to his side.

“It is beautiful, is it not?” they murmur. 

His only reply is, “I’ll never get used to it.”

They hum, nodding. “We have been traveling through these galaxies for many years and still, every sight is awe-inspiring.”

Shiro smiles. It’s nice to hear his own thoughts reflected back at him. Most people they come across have long since lost that never-ceasing wonder of the stars. Keith has commented on it more than once, during late night talks when sleeplessness has conquered them both.  _ I don’t know how you can look at all this like you used to. Like it’s... beautiful. _   


Shiro’s answer is the same every time:  _ How can I not? _

“Matt and I used to sneak on the roof together,” Shiro finds himself saying, eyes trained steady on the bright field of stars around them. “We’d stargaze, try to find constellations… make it a competition.” A laugh surprises him.

“He looks at the stars the way you do.” Leilani’s gaze is like the warm rays of his own sun. “It was once the only time we would ever see him smile…”

Shiro feels more than sees the way Pidge goes stiff, doesn’t have to see to know the heartbreaking sadness that rises in her eyes like the tide. He knows it well; it’s the look that’s taken over every time she’s talked about Matt since the day he first called her Katie on Arus so long ago. 

Before Shiro can find more words, Leilani turns and says softly to both of them, “What do you want to know?”

“What?”

Their smile now is gentle, almost sad. “I know you both have many questions, things you wonder about Matthew and his life now. I will answer anything I can.”

“Really?” The awe in Pidge’s voice rivals the way she talks about discoveries with the lions. 

Leilani’s laugh is sudden and sweet, seeming to light the stars up a little brighter. “Yes, of course. Ask away—may I call you Pidge?”

“That’s my name…” Pidge says, her head cocking curiously to the side. “I mean, I prefer that over Katie. No one calls me that anymore.”

“I meant, may I use your name informally?” Leilani laughs once again, giggles really, one hand even coming up to daintily cover their mouth. “I have done so with Shiro in our interactions thus far, as he insisted, but I have yet to speak to you directly in this way. I want to make sure it is alright to address you as your teammates do.”

Pidge’s grin is dimmer than Shiro is used to, but it’s still there. “Yeah, of course you can call me Pidge.”

“Lovely.” That smile could light up a damn galaxy, Shiro would swear on it. “You may call me Leilani. No need for titles here. Now—what would you like to know? I am sure you have many questions.”

“Maybe too many,” Shiro offers, meeting Leilani’s smile with a small one of his own. He can’t ignore the way his heart picks up speed at the thought of getting answers, at understanding better why Matt’s smile comes so quick yet seems so fleeting. 

“We have time.” Leilani strides forward, leading them further onto the deck and toward the windows. “Come. Let us sit and talk.”

Pidge follows first, settling in her usual cross-legged position on the long, low padded bench by the window, still taking visual inventory of all the tech in the room. Shiro sits next to her but can’t quite shake the stiffness out of his posture.

Leilani folds two of their hands in their lap and sits facing them both on an angle. It’s a position Allura has taken up many many times, and Leilani sits with just as much poise and grace as the princess always does.    


“Please,” Leilani starts, eyes bright and smile warm. “Ask whatever it is you wish. I would like to be a comfort at this time, when things are so uncertain and Matthew has startled you both with what is for us a regular occurrence.”

“Regular?” Shiro frowns. “This is—Matt’s done this before?” The thought sinks cold and hard in his gut. 

Leilani sighs. “Unfortunately, yes. He engages in active combat more than any of the rest of us, even Zarra, and he takes personal responsibility for any harm done to those under his command. We have tried to dissuade him many times, but…” They shake their head in resignation. “He is stubborn.”

Pidge bites hard on her lower lip, stiff and tense at Shiro’s side. He reaches out to her, settles a gentle hand on her shoulder, forcing himself to keep steady. Matt’s stubborn… but he’s never been one prone to anger, or with a quest for revenge. Matt was a live-and-let-live kind of guy, a go-with-the-flow, silver-lining, take-things-as-they-come person. He’s sweet. He’s kind. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Clearly that’s changed. 

“What can you tell us about the team?” Shiro asks. “The one he lost.” He needs to try to understand, to try and reconcile the memories of his boyfriend with the angry, grief-stricken Commander who met his gaze and declared his intent for murderous revenge. He needs to know who Matt is avenging. 

Leilani’s eyes go sad and they drop their gaze to their lap. “The Betas,” they say, voice full with a sorrow so deep and genuine it makes Shiro’s chest ache. Pidge feels it too, if the soft noise she makes is any indication. 

“They were young,” Leilani begins softly. “Our youngest strike team out of training. And this was their first mission alone.” 

At those words, the ache worsens and the sourness of bile spreads on the back of Shiro’s tongue. Losing a team, their first mission alone… it’s something out of Shiro’s nightmares. And here Matt is, living it. 

Leilani continues, their hands curling together in their lap. “One of them… Zetri. She and Jion were the first two recruits that Matthew ever chose. He selected them both out of a large group of volunteers from a refugee planet.” Their gaze is distant as if remembering the day all too clearly. “Matthew has always been fond of them both.”

Pidge bites her lip and shifts so she’s got her legs curled up under her. “Matt… Is he okay?” She asks hesitantly. “I didn’t get to see him before he left. I—” Her bangs fall into her face as she glances down, providing a convenient hiding place. “I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

“Matthew never says goodbye.” Leilani raises their eyes, and it’s only because he’s looking that Shiro gets to see the pure sadness sewn into their smile before they rein it in. “It is one of his strict rules.”

“Rules?” Shiro frowns. 

Leilani nods. “He never says goodbye. And he does not make promises.” They hold his gaze until the too-blue of their eyes seems to burn. Shiro’s stomach drops, and a few puzzling moments from the hangar—reactions from the Commanders, Matt’s intensity—piece together in his mind.

“He made one today,” Shiro says slowly. Pidge looks up at him, eyes full of silent questions. “To Jion.”

“He made two,” Leilani corrects gently. “One to Zetri as well, before she died. Matthew does not break his promises, and to insure that, he does not make them often.” They pause a moment, more sadness washing over their face. “Not even about his own safety.”

More bile coats Shiro’s tongue, somehow sharper and… salty? What? Shiro doesn’t have more than a minute to be confused before Pidge coughs hard at his side. 

“Pidge?”

She waves him off, coughing again, one hand coming up to cover her mouth. “I—sorry. I don’t…What is that?” Shiro frowns deeply, shifting closer. The hand at her mouth moves to curl weakly at her throat, and Leilani gasps. 

“My apologies!” Immediately the taste is gone, without a single trace left behind. 

“What—what was that?” Shiro stumbles over the words, trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

Leilani sighs, their eyes turning downcast. “I believe Matthew told you that I—for lack of a better term, taste emotions?”

Shiro nods. It was only a brief exchange, but he remembers.

“That goes the other way as well,” they explain. “My kin are able to taste certain of my emotions. If I feel something very strongly, that is sometimes projected to others nearby. I apologize—I did not think to warn you. It often catches me by surprise.”

“So that was you?” Pidge asks, eyes wide. Her hand still rests at her throat. “Your—?”

“I would imagine it is a mix of things.” Leilani shifts. Shiro gets the sense they’re a little embarrassed about the mistake. “I… may I ask what you tasted?”

“It was bitter,” Shiro says slowly. “And a little...salty?” He glances to Pidge for confirmation. 

“Yeah.” Pidge nods. “It was… I thought it was my own reaction to hearing about Matt.”

“I apologize,” Leilani says again, deeply sincere and warm. “If I was to lapse in my control I would have wanted it to be with happiness. It is a much more pleasant experience than my sadness and grief.”

Shiro swallows, almost tasting it again. “Grief?”

“For the Betas,” Leilani murmurs, “not for Matthew. I worry for him, but I am confident in his abilities.”

Pidge squirms in her seat. “It’s hard to see Matt as having the kind of abilities necessary to be good at… at a murder mission.”

“He is a skilled fighter, and incredibly well trained for missions such as this.” The words are clearly meant to be reassuring, but they twist sharp in Shiro’s gut. All he can see in his mind is Matt, small and scared when staring down the arena, the crack in his voice as his fingers slipped from Shiro’s, _ I’m not gonna make it, I’m never going to see my family again! _ —

“How do you train for this?” Pidge frowns, unknowingly pulling Shiro back, keeping him grounded. 

"You may not like to hear this… but Matthew is well suited to this work. To his command and all it entails.” Leilani spreads their hands before them. “Matthew is bright and intuitive. His instincts are sharp and his passion is strong. There are times where I miss what he sees, where my abilities to read the emotional status of a room blind me to the most efficient and effective path. He has no qualms about getting us there, even if sometimes he needs to be curbed."

"Curbed?" Shiro frowns.

Leilani looks at him. "The most efficient path is not always the kindest."

Shiro glances away. The thought of Matt valuing efficiency over kindness is unsettling.

"That doesn't sound like Matt," Pidge sounds very small as she says it, blinking up at Leilani. "Not at all."

Leilani's smile is gentle and somber. "He once told me that kindness is just as likely to get you killed as the knife that will deal the strike. It is something I try every day to ease from his mind."

Shiro almost flinches at their words. That's not Matt. He would never say something like that—he would never be a person who  _ believed _ that.

“It’s… very different from how we knew him before,” Shiro says softly.

Leilani settles one hand on the empty stretch of bench between them and Pidge. “I understand that. This work changes us all, and it is difficult to see it wrought so unexpectedly in those we love.”

Shiro just nods while Pidge stares blindly out at the stars.

They let the silence settle between them, not quite comfortable but not awkward either, until quiet footsteps sound behind them. Leilani turns with a gentle smile to greet Kartok and Martek.

“Dear heart,” Kartok murmurs as he takes one of Leilani’s hands. “Paladins. How are you?”

“Processing,” Shiro admits weakly.

Pidge glances to Martek with a painfully hopeful look. “Is there any—have you heard from Matt?”

Martek draws his eyes away from the datapad in his arms. “He checked in just a little while ago. His arrival is going as planned, and he was about to land and begin infiltrating the compound. I have not heard from him since,” he sighs. “I am sorry, Pidge.” 

Pidge starts to frown, but it’s interrupted by a wide yawn. Shiro sighs and rests a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“You should sleep,” he murmurs. “It’s been a long day.”

“No, I want to stay up and wait for him,” she protests.

“At least get ready for bed.” He’s all too used to late-night negotiations with her, no matter how old they all get. “You know how much the others will worry.”

“I would be happy to walk you back to your room,” Martek offers, to Shiro’s surprise. 

Pidge frowns. “I don’t need to be put to bed like a child.”

“It was not my intention to suggest so,” Martek says calmly. “As Shiro said, it has been a very long day. I will be up waiting for Commander Holt’s return regardless… to be truthful, I would appreciate a few moments to feel useful while he is beyond my reach.” His smile is bitter. 

“Oh.” Pidge blinks. “I—Okay.” She bites her lip and looks up Shiro. “I…” she starts, before abruptly going silent as she throws herself into his arms for a tight hug. Shiro smiles, wrapping his arms around her.    
  
“I’ll call you when we get word about Matt,” Shiro murmurs, brushing a fond and familiar kiss to the top of her head.   
  
“Promise?” Pidge whispers, hugging him even tighter.    
  
“I promise.”    


It takes her a minute, but Pidge nods, and lets go of him with a sigh. “Okay.” 

“Check in with the others for me.” Shiro smiles. “It’s not often we spend this much time apart from each other anymore.” 

“I will.” The smile she shoots him in return is small, but it reaches her eyes, which he counts as a plus. She offers the same smile to Leilani and Kartok as she gets to her feet. “Thank you for talking to us. It means a lot.”

“I am glad to have helped in whatever small way I can,” Leilani says warmly. “If you have questions do not hesitate to ask, Pidge.” Kartok makes a low, rumbling noise, something that comes right from his chest and sounds like agreement. 

Pidge nods, and turns to leave with Martek. Shiro manages to catch her voice as they go, a soft, almost careful, “Could you help me find Keith and Lance?” He can’t help but laugh under his breath. 

Leilani’s bright eyes catch his. “Are you amused?”

Shiro shakes his head. “It’s, uh… it’s nothing. At least, it’s nothing they want me to know about yet…” He trails off, realizing he probably shouldn’t bring up his team’s dynamics in front of strange people, Commanders of a relatively unknown force.

Kartok chuckles. “Yes, we understand that.” The wash of starlight from the observation window paints his intimidating frame delicately, and he looks so soft and relaxed with Leilani curled up against his side. “Sometimes it is best to turn a blind eye until the time is right.”

“They will come to you on their own.” Leilani’s smile eases warmth into the air. Shiro’s sure the urge to relax comes from their empathic abilities, just as he’s sure it’s sent with good intent, but he can’t fight his instincts, can’t fight the fact that he’s in a strange place with beings whose only right to his trust is their relationship with Matt. 

He nods though, because Leilani is right, and whatever’s happening has yet to affect the way the team runs, and everyone seems happy. Kartok chuckles again. 

“Do you remember when Matthew was working on the Hub?” he asks Leilani, scarred fingers lightly tracing shapes along the curve of their bared shoulder. “How he would insist on wearing longer sleeves around you so you would not see the burn scars from rewiring the main consoles?”

They sigh and shake their head. “I do not know how he thought I would not notice. It was obvious he was in pain, no matter how he tried to hide it. Omontu—my second,” they explain for Shiro, “still has not let him forget.”

“He hid his injuries?” Shiro frowns. Matt has always been stubborn, has always liked to do things his way ( _ “The best way, Shiro. You knew this about me when you started dating me, deal with it, I’m always right” _ ), but he was never reckless. “Why? He had access to you and your second as healers so why…?”

“It was early in his time with the Coalition,” Kartok offers. “He did not yet trust us. Matthew did not intend to stay with us long at first, and his time here was entirely contingent on finding his father.” 

Shiro glances quickly away, staring out into the void of space. Out where Sam still is.

“Has he… well, no, Pidge asked earlier,” he murmurs to himself. “I guess—is he still looking?”

“Always,” Leilani murmurs. “He has never stopped.” They pause before asking, “He told you about becoming kin with us, yes?”

Shiro nods.

“Do not think that that bond has at all diminished Matthew’s love for his family, and for you,” they say gently, eyes imploring Shiro to believe them. 

Something twists in Shiro’s gut. “I know,” he says, even as that image of Zarra and Matt tangled together in the meeting room burns behind his eyes. “Matt… he doesn’t mince his words. He wouldn’t give his love if he didn’t mean it.” 

Leilani shakes their head fondly. “Yes, that is our Starling.”

Shiro blinks. "Starling?" How would they even know Earth birds out here? Seems like a weird thing for Matt to share.

“I'm sorry, the name is merely an indulgence he's allowed me," Leilani chuckles softly, looking to Shiro with warm eyes, their fingers lacing neatly with Kartok’s. "His... freckles? He called them freckles once. Constellations on his skin, stars that he carries with him."

"Oh," Shiro breathes. God, that makes his heart thump in a way he'd forgotten. "That's—that's really lovely."

"He seems to like it." Leilani smiles, eyes knowing as they look at Shiro. His cheeks burn as he remembers again that they are fully able to feel the way his love for Matt—so long buried by necessity, not choice—burns like a current under his skin. Shiro drops his gaze and Leilani laughs, sweet and warm. “Oh, you do love him so.”

“Dear heart, do not tease,” Kartok chastises lightly, pressing a smile to Leilani’s temple. 

“It was not a tease,” they insist. “It is only fact. Shiro, Matthew is lucky to have found you again. He knows this.”

“I’m lucky too.” Shiro spreads his hands flat on his thighs and looks up, not at Leilani and Kartok, but back to the stars. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see him again.” 

Kartok’s voice is low, unobtrusive. “He thought that he had lost you forever. There was no way to know otherwise, and it was not an unreasonable assumption, considering how you were separated.”

“Did he ever…”  _ Talk about me? About  _ **_us_ ** _? _ The questions feel immature and childish. Hardly how Shiro wants to present himself to two new allies. He sighs. “I don’t know…”

Leilani says softly, “You may ask us anything, Shiro.”

His gaze drops from the stars to his own lap, to his human and Galra hands clenched together with nerves and the discomfort of not knowing.

Leilani sighs. “There is so much Matthew has not told us. I wish he had told us about you.”

Well, there’s his answer. 

“He didn’t say anything?” Shiro asks before he can stop himself. 

There’s a pause before either of them respond.

“We never pressed him,” Kartok says, sounding like he’s trying to soothe him. “We understand all too well the impossible pain of loss and how difficult it can be to speak about trauma. It was not our place to probe him about what he was not willing to share.”   
  
“Right.” Shiro nods, swallowing back the lump in his throat. “No, that’s—that’s really good. That he had you all and that you—you get it.” He curls his prosthetic into a fist. “It’s good that Matt had that. Has it.”  

“We have always tried to be there for him.” Leilani sits up a bit, suddenly earnest. “There has been—I—” They stop, frown, and then nod. “Yes, I will tell you.” Leaning forward, they land a hand on top of Shiro’s prosthetic, still curled tight into a fist. He would have jumped at the sudden contact, but he finds himself pinned in place by the intensity of their gaze. 

“There has always been a deep hurt in Matthew,” they start, quiet, but not soft. “Something I could not name, and that he did not address. It is present every moment. His triumphs, joys, successes, all are colored with a shade of this thing I could not pinpoint, I could not—” Leilani shakes their head, frowning as they look away from Shiro, unaware that he’s hanging on their every word. 

“Leilani,” Kartok murmurs, smoothing a hand down their back. They smile for him, patting one of their free hands to his leg as they continue.

“Matthew has shared much with us. He is our comrade, our partner, our kin.” They smile, achingly beautiful. “Our Starling. But no matter how happy he is with us, how sweet his aura buzzes on my tongue, there is that note of hurt and sadness that goes unspoken and brushed aside. Always.” They pause, smile growing and their head tilts to the side. “Until today.”

Something in his chest feels… lopsided. Off kilter. He’s glad he’s sitting down or he’s sure his knees would give out from under him. 

“What do you mean?” Shiro manages. It comes as a whisper, but it feels so loud in the air between them. 

“It is gone.” Leilani’s eyes twinkle like any number of the stars that dot the endless sky. “The sadness, the hurt, the undercurrent to Matthew’s every heartbeat, is gone. It disappeared the moment you fell into his arms.”

All the air rushes from Shiro’s lungs. 

“Oh,” he says, hushed. “I… oh.” His eyes slam shut against the very real threat of tears and his heart stutters through its paces. Matt… Oh Matt. 

He knows Matt loves him. Whatever doubts the bond with Zarra has sowed within him, Shiro knows that Matt loves him, knows it like he knows his own name. But to hear Leilani talk about Matt’s aura, his soul and being changing because of Shiro, hurt they’ve known him to have for years now melting away just because Matt knew he was there and real and alive… 

It’s more than a little bit stunning. 

Heart clenching tight around worry he’s been suppressing, love he’s been drowning in, and a deep want for Matt to just be here with him now, Shiro forces himself to take a deep breath. It shakes its way into his lungs and out again, rattling in the air in a way that Shiro can only think of as weak. Dammit. 

“I hope I have not made things worse,” Leilani frets quietly, and Shiro laughs. It’s a short, startled sound, one that surprises him, but it’s a starkly honest thing. 

“I think not worse,” Kartok rumbles. Shiro hears movement on the bench, and Leilani’s hand shifts on top of his own as Kartok must resettle around them. It takes a moment, but he’s able to open his eyes with a sigh, just in time to see Kartok kiss Leilani’s temple with the sweetest smile curling at his lips. Leilani leans into the touch like it’s gravity. 

“Not worse,” Shiro agrees softly. “I—Thank you. I... needed to hear that.” Leilani squeezes his hand gently before pulling theirs back. 

Leilani smiles, the softest ring of a laugh in their voice. “There is no need to thank me, Shiro. You are the dearest love of our kin. That makes you important, even if your aura did not already spark clean and sharp at my senses.” 

Shiro’s at a loss for what to say to that. He’s used to cordial behavior from allies—his position as the Black Paladin grants him that and more without much effort—and he’s always proactive about giving and earning respect, but what Leilani offers is more than that. It’s acceptance; simple, honest, open acceptance. 

“Would you like a change in conversation?” Kartok offers, throwing Shiro a much needed lifeline. There’s something knowing in his dark eyes, not judgment, but understanding. Shiro nods, straightening up his spine and forcing his hands to uncurl from fists. 

Leilani chuckles softly, nodding as well to acknowledge the switch. “A good idea. It will hardly do for Matthew to return and find that I have overwhelmed and upset you. Then we would have Zarra to deal with on top of that. Which will lead to Matthew being upset that she is, and then back to Zarra and so on forever.” A shake of their head tells of fond exasperation. “The orbit in which they move is a baffling, yet beautiful thing.”

Shiro is careful to keep his face clear of any reaction, even as his his heart curls in on itself, the emotional whiplash of such all-consuming love to something sour aching like a physical wound. 

Even with such care, Leilani notices a change and their eyes go wide. 

Shit. 

Kartok’s gaze flits to Leilani and back to Shiro, quick and calculating. “Perhaps we have found a new topic already,” he muses lightly. Shiro’s cheeks burn and he’s quick to look away. He feels like a fucking kid again, goddamit. 

“It’s nothing,” he says, hoping to push this away. He doesn’t want to talk about this with them, doesn’t want to talk about it at all. Matt explained, that was enough. Or at least it was enough before Matt left, before he held Zarra close and she was the only one to make him smile in the aftermath of emerging from the pod. 

“It is not,” Kartok hums knowingly. “But we can pretend it is, if that is what you would like.”

Shiro almost jumps at this chance,  _ yes yes let’s ignore it God, please, _ but he’s stopped by the warm press of Leilani’s hand to his arm again.

“Shiro,” they say gently. “Let us try to ease this distress. Please.”

Maybe it’s the earnestness in their voice, the warmth in their eyes, or maybe it’s the memory of how Matt leaned so easily and willingly into every touch Leilani gave him, but Shiro can’t help but relax. Matt trusts them. Kartok too. Kin is  family, and love, that’s what Matt had said. This is Matt’s family. 

The knowledge is both a sting and the balm that soothes it. 

“It’s nothing,” Shiro says again, sighing. “It really is. Matt explained their… bond. I know that they’re not—I’m just having trouble processing it.” He offers them both a small smile. “We don’t have kin on Earth, and I’m someone who has always had exclusive romantic relationships. So to see Matt with Zarra…” 

“It is an adjustment.” Kartok nods. “Yes, I can see how Matthew and Zarra might be unsettling for you at just a glimpse. Their bond is unique.” He smiles for Shiro, impossibly fond for how little they know each other, and chuckles lowly. “Would talking with us about it help ease your mind? If there are any who are more suited to talk about those two than us, I will offer up what is left of my antlers.”

At the odd phrasing Shiro glances up to what he thought were horns on Kartok’s head, frowning when he realizes that they’re jaggedly cropped—broken. Maybe it would be better not to address that right now.

“I, um…” He fidgets, trying to decide what he wants to do. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I want to know anything, to be honest.”

“Understandable.” Leilani folds their hands within their lap, all except the one that rests on Kartok’s forearm. “But may I ask what Matthew has told you so far?”

“Not much,” Shiro admits. “Just that he’s kin with you, and her, and that his relationship with her specifically is different. ‘More,’ he said.”

“It is an apt description,” Leilani muses with a lighter tone. “Kin is different for everyone. It manifests in incredibly diverse ways, unique for each individual.” They turn a warm, loving smile up at Kartok, one hand framing his cheek. “Kartok is the light of my life, and the love I hold for him burns brighter than any star.” Kartok rumbles deep in his chest, leaning into that gentle touch, drawing an even brighter smile to Leilani’s lips. “But that does not mean that I have any less love for Zarra or Matthew. It is just different.”

“Kin for Zarra is a need,” Kartok starts, voice definitely lower in its timbre now. “For her people it has always been something necessary for a balanced and healthy life. She does not engage in other forms of partnership, for her there is no romantic love, or anything of the sort. There is kin, and for her that is everything. And Matthew is part of that.”

“Should you be telling me this?” Shiro frowns. “This sounds incredibly private.”

“Were Zarra here she would tell you herself,” Leilani reassures. “Kin is one of the few subjects she is most open about. Would you like us to call her here so she can tell you herself? I believe she is training with Ortraz still—”

“No,” Shiro says quickly. “That’s alright, I—No.” 

Kartok dips his head in understanding, dislodging Leilani’s hand from his cheek. They don’t seem to mind, smiling again. “It is probably for the best,” he says. “With Matthew gone on a mission of this nature she is sure to be a bit tightly wound.”

“Yeah… I got a sense of that,” Shiro says slowly. Their words buzz in his mind, mixing with Matt’s from before, and what Shiro has seen. It’s all colored the same, but it doesn’t quite fall into place. He doesn’t think they’re lying to him, doesn’t think anyone has at all, but it just doesn’t mesh, and beginning to understand kin and Matt and Zarra does little to quell the burn in his chest at the memory of them tangled up so intimately.

Leilani sighs fondly, leaning a little more into Kartok. "They understand each other, better than I think anyone else,” they say. “They are cut of the same cloth, and they have a bond that is truly special. Zarra allows so few close. We will always cherish the honor of being among those few, but none are held in as high regard as Matthew to her, or her to him. They are never so unsettled as when they are separated.”

Well then.

The two Commanders wait patiently and silently while Shiro mulls that over, trying to formulate a response or a question or  _ anything. _ He’s just opening his mouth when there’s a little trill from the wide bracelet on Leilani’s top left wrist.

Shiro realizes it’s a communication device like Matt’s when Leilani presses a small button and calmly answers, “This is Commander Leilani.”

“Commander!” Even Shiro can hear the worry in Martek’s voice. It makes him sit up straighter—Martek was just with Pidge, has something gone wrong with her? Or is it—

He doesn’t want to think about the other option. The other person that Martek would be worried about right now. The one in far more immediate danger than Pidge.

“Martek, what is it?” The crease of an impending frown appears between Leilani’s brows.

“Commander Holt—he is on his way back to base, and he has asked for you to meet him at the hangar.”

His heart flutters at the news. Matt’s on his way back! Shiro shifts on the bench, a smile already pulling at his lips… Only to have it falter when he sees Leilani’s eyes widen and the look they aim at Kartok. “We will be right there,” they say, tone sharp and quick. “Tell Zarra I am on my way when you call her.” 

“Yes, Commander.” Martek ends the call and Leilani is on their feet and rushing to the door before Shiro can even blink. 

“What—”

“Come, Shiro.” Kartok stands as well, brow furrowed deeply. “We must not waste time.”

* * *

Heart racing, Shiro can barely keep up.

The hangars are far from the command deck, even with the elevator Kartok leads him into, and it seems like the blood is pounding harder in his veins with every second and every step toward Matt. 

Leilani racing ahead allows them to be the first to arrive to the hangar, Kartok and Shiro following close behind. They don’t enter the main floor, not while the bay doors are open and waiting for a craft to dock. Matt’s craft. Kartok goes to Leilani’s side without a word, taking their hand and pulling them close. Shiro doesn’t have a chance to ask what’s wrong before the doors burst open behind him again. 

“He turned off his comms!” Zarra snarls, storming her way inside with Ortraz close at her back. “I’m going to belt him to a damn chair!” 

“What—Matt?” Shiro frowns, trailing his gaze from each of the Commanders. “How do you know?”

Zarra spares Shiro only a glance. “I know him.” 

A rock drops into Shiro’s stomach and makes itself comfortable there.

Martek is already at a console, eyes glued to the bay doors, hands locked around the controls. His tension sends a wave of it rising through Shiro, too. He may not know what’s going on, aside from the fact that Matt is coming back and Zarra’s speculation that his comms are off, but it’s obviously not something good. More than anything he wants to scream,  _ Will someone please tell me why I’m worried?! _

He doesn’t get a chance, though, as before the pressure can build too much there’s a craft visible through the bay doors. 

It comes to a worryingly uncertain stop and Martek closes the doors, finally allowing the three Commanders and Shiro to rush onto the floor. Everyone stops the moment the pod hatch cracks open.

Shiro’s heart thuds with unexpected relief that it’s opening on its own. There won’t be another forced entry tonight, another tragically unknown scene awaiting them.

It thuds again when Matt appears, sagging heavily against the doorframe. Blood is visible even against his dark flight suit and body armor, and it’s glistening in his hair where a helmet should be instead.

“Matthew,” Leilani calls, their voice tremulous with worry.

His head slowly lifts, clearly an effortful movement, and his eyes scan the figures waiting at a distance from the pod. 

They flit over Leilani, over Kartok, lingering on Shiro as a third thud threatens to rip his heart from its casing but they don’t settle—they don’t settle on him.

Matt’s eyes flick right past him and he reaches out one bloody hand, croaking, “Zarra.”

Zarra wastes no time, already pushing away from the group and striding, nearly running, toward the pod, toward Matt. Shiro is frozen. 

He’s frozen watching as Matt offers her a charming, crooked grin when she gets close. He’s visibly shaking with the effort it takes to stand and balance himself upright. Frozen as Zarra presses into Matt’s space, paying no mind to the blood that covers him, and sinks her fingers in his hair to pulls him close.

"You reckless fool!" she snaps, eyes too bright to be angry, handling him too gently to be truly cross. "You're fucking drenched in blood, you look a mess!"

"Yeah, well, I came back, didn't I?" Matt rasps. He shakily raises one hand and rests it softly at her neck. "I came back to you.”

The rock in the pit of Shiro’s stomach turns to a black hole, collapsing and devouring his world. 

Leilani and Kartok were wrong. No matter what they told him, there  _ is _ something different between Matt and Zarra. Something so strong that when he stepped out of a pod fresh off a fucking murder mission, bloody and aching, he looked not for his boyfriend or even his sister—

He looked for  _ her. _

The black hole sucks down the pinprick light of hope.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that the Mature rating is well-earned in this chapter.

Everything fucking hurts.

Matt grits his teeth against the sharp throb of the pain in his side as the pod lands inside the hangar. Shit that’s definitely more than two broken ribs like he originally thought, and his shoulder feels like it’s on fire. Fucking sucks, but hey, it’s not the worst he’s gotten.

At least he was able to fly back on his own this time. No need for Rel or Hepabt to come get him.

Now he just has to fight through the haze of pain and get himself out of the pod.

Matt swallows back a groan as his ribs burn, his head aches, and he drags himself to the open hatch. Blackness swims at the corners of his vision, his knees quiver and he sags against the doorframe, while Leilani’s worried voice sings in his head. They call for him, just a ring of his name and, with all the effort in the world, Matt manages to look up.

Blurred figures, various sizes, none the one he wants to see, _needs_ to see—there.

“Zarra,” he croaks. Matt pulls the hand away from his ribs to reach for her. _Amatus._

Zarra’s moving before her name is fully off his lips. The moment she reaches his side and gets into his space, she’s chastising him sharply. “You reckless fool! You’re fucking drenched in blood, you look a mess!” Her eyes swim with relief she won’t give voice to, her touch so gentle as she pulls him in, nice and close in an effort to soothe both their anxiety.

He’s pretty sure if he laughs he’ll pass out, but he still manages to say, “Yeah, well, I came back, didn’t I?” Just like he’ll never promise her aloud. “I came back to you.”

Zarra’s eyes soften, bright like molten gold, and she leans into the curl of his hand at the back of her neck when she helps him step out of the pod so Leilani can fret and usher him to a chair. “Look at you,” Zarra scolds, like she’s never come back soaked in blood and cut to ribbons before. “Reckless, headstrong disaster of a man!”

“You’ve said it all before, Z.” Matt’s thumb moves clumsily over the line of her neck. “You know what else I am?”

“Lucky that I do not throttle you?”

“Nah. Yours.” Matt grins for her, well aware of the blood in his teeth, breathless as his ribs jostle painfully with each step. “I’m yours, Z.”  
  
Zarra’s breath rushes out as he’s eased into a chair. She leans down to meet his current height, pressing their foreheads together. “You fool,” she whispers, ears flat against her head. “Stupid, impulsive idiot."

“Still yours,” Matt breathes, curling his hand tighter on the back of her neck.

“Amatus,” Zarra murmurs, a low, distressed purr distorting her tone. Matt hushes her, shifting in his chair to pull her closer while his heart throbs and his everything aches sharp all over. Something stops him, pulls him back. Matt frowns, blinking to try and focus himself.

“Matthew.” Leilani’s hand rests on his shoulder, holding him down, keeping him sitting. Oh. Right. He needs healing. Matt looks up at them, flashing another quick, bloody grin. “Oh, Starling...”

“Hi Lani. You look pretty.” They always look pretty, even when the edges of his vision blur and his head swims. Pretty pretty Leilani.

The tang of Leilani’s healing mingles with the existing taste of blood in Matt’s mouth and he groans. Bone and cartilage and tendon and muscle shift and knit back together inside him beneath their skilled hands. This is never fun.

“Hush,” they murmur, hands gentle and cool to the touch. “It was wise to call for me. You might not have made it to the infirmary on your own—Ortraz would have had to carry you.”

Matt snorts at the attempted levity and then hisses when it jostles his ribs. “Bet I coulda powered through,” he rasps. “Just for you, Lani.”

“I would hope you might seek medical attention for your own benefit,” they reply dryly with eyes closed.

There’s a shuffle of movement, a murmur too soft for Matt to really hear, followed by the low, approving rumble of Kartok’s voice. “Yes, call her. This is not a sight she will enjoy, but I believe she would rather you summon her than not.”

“What’s—” Matt groans, closing his eyes tightly himself as his vision starts to go white. It’s not his first time getting a concussion healed by Leilani, but God does it suck every time. “Fuck!”

“Your own fault.” Zarra presses herself close, a warm pulse of concern at Matt’s shoulder. Small, nimble fingers twine in his hair. Matt huffs a laugh around the pain.

“Hush,” Leilani instructs. “Tease later. Kartok, my heart, come. You are too tense and too far.”

Matt blinks, and suddenly Kartok is there, sliding up against Leilani’s side and settling one big hand on their back. “Kartok. Damn. You’re pretty too,” he mutters. “Fuck, why is everybody so hot?”

“I feel as though we go through this every time you sustain an injury.” Kartok’s tone is light, even if Matt can practically see the worry emanating off of him. “At least we are not being treated to another rant about my shoulders.”

“Don’t get me started!” Matt jerks a finger up at Kartok, forcing a grin around another pop of pain as his shoulder grates back into place.

“Yes, please do not,” Leilani murmurs, their dry tone lingering. “It is difficult enough to heal him without being riled.”

“I’m being good,” Matt protests, vision starting to clear as the taste of metal on his tongue grows stronger. He blinks and his focus steadies. Just out of the way he can see Martek and Ortraz, silent and solemn, and hovering behind them…

“Shiro?” He blinks. “You’re here?” Shiro isn’t usually here, he can’t be. Shiro’s gone, he’s long gone and dead and—no. No. No, Shiro’s _not_ dead. Shiro—Shiro came back to him, Shiro and Voltron and Katie. Pidge. Matt’s brain is too cloudy, cloudy with pain and confusion and the knock to the head he got from the Empire Captain before he killed him is really taking a toll… He’d only thought about getting home once revenge was off his mind, once all who’d killed his poor Betas met the same bloody end. Matt can remember now.

He can remember Shiro’s warmth, his big strong arms, the taste of his lips, and the curl of his smile. Shiro stood beside him when the Betas’ pod wouldn’t open. He kissed Shiro before he left, left him waiting here safe with kin and warmth and love and now Matt is back and Shiro is still here. Matt grins. “Shiro!”

Shiro is standing too far away, and he doesn’t make a move to come closer. “Matt,” he says, voice low and rough and guarded. Matt’s smile fades. Why does he sound like that? What’s wrong?

“Shiro?” Matt tries to sit up straighter, can’t stop the groan that comes with the sharp spike of pain in his ribs. Leilani tuts, taking Matt’s chin in their hand.

“Matthew.”

“What?” Matt frowns, blinking again. More and more clarity floods his mind, settles his thoughts, even as his confusion grows. Why is Shiro so far away?

“Amatus, you must calm.” Zarra’s fingers comb through Matt’s hair, through the damp clumps of it, red with blood. The blood. Maybe that’s why…?

Matt looks past Leilani, to Shiro once again. “Takashi?”

Shiro’s breath catches audibly in his throat. He looks struck and stuck and he’s still so far away. “I—”

Shiro’s saved from acting or answering as the hangar doors slam open, bringing with them the frantic, frenzied arrival of his sister.

“Matt!” Pidge cries, running in with her curls all wild. “Matt, I—” Her eyes go wide, and her face pales. Right. Blood. He’s covered in it. Shit.

“I’m okay.” Matt flashes her a quick smile, forcing himself straighter in his chair, even though the last pop of his shoulder snapping into place makes him cringe and wince. “Katie, I’m good, I really am.”

“You’re covered in blood! Matt—!” She nearly trips over herself as she runs across the floor.

“Pidge, hold on.” Shiro is quick, stopping her momentum with a careful arm. “Let Leilani do their work—”

“What happened?!” Pidge demands, not fighting Shiro’s grip, but not going lax into his hold either. “What the hell, Matt?!”

“It’s nothing,” he mumbles, wincing with a searing pain across one rib. _Good pain,_ he tells himself. _Healing._ “Coupla guards got in some lucky shots, that’s all.”

Zarra growls.

Kartok sighs. “Please do not describe your pain as any form of luck, Matthew.”

“I need your armor off.” Leilani swipes a thumb, gentle and sweet, over the arch of Matt’s cheekbone. “And the flight suit. I cannot heal the worst of the breaks without skin contact.”

“Right,” Matt nods, clenching his teeth as he has to sit up and move again.  
  
“Breaks?” Pidge asks, whimpers really. “I… _Matt!_ ”

“Be easy, Kitten,” Matt tries to soothe as best he can. “Don’t tell me you’ve never got a little banged up on a mission before.” Zarra helps him remove the upper pieces of his armor, setting them aside on the floor, and then peels down his bloody flight suit.

“That’s not the—” Pidge stops short as Matt’s skin is revealed. Her eyes go even wider, whatever words she had planned falling flat on her tongue, and she gapes at him. Matt grits his teeth _. Fucking hell._

He knows he’s quite a sight. His skin is a mosaic of scars underneath the blood, some pale silver with age, others still tinged pink and fresh. It’s a cacophony of colors, and that’s without even mentioning the dark sprawl of the bruise over his half-healed ribs.

Leilani tuts at him softly, their gentle hands landing on tender skin. The bruises barely peek out between their long fingers, mottled black, blue and purple in an almost elegant contrast to their unmarred skin. Pretty pretty Lani. Matt squeezes Zarra’s hand tight as the next stage of healing begins.

“Fuck!” White hot pain sears through his veins.

“I know,” Leilani soothes, their voice like cool water over a burn. “I know, Starling, I do. This will not take long.”

“Sure. Take your time,” Matt groans, eyes shut tight.

“What happened to you?” Pidge demands. Matt can’t see her face, but her voice is enough to paint a picture. She’s horrified, she’s scared. “Matt—those scars, I—”

“Pidge.”

“No, Shiro! I want to know what happened! He’s fucking covered!”

Shiro. _Shiro_.

“Shiro.” Matt blindly reaches his free hand toward him, his earlier pleas forgotten in the renewed confusion that Shiro’s here but not _with_ him.

“I want to know what happened!” Pidge insists again. She sounds like she’s verging on panic now.

“Be easy.” Kartok cuts in smoothly. “Breathe and be easy, young paladin. You must find a sense calm within you. Letting yourself wind your emotions tight will not help you find peace. Breathe.”

“This isn’t a yoga class, Kartok, stop telling her to breathe!” Matt gets out between tightly clenched teeth. He chokes back a moan of pain as the worst of the breaks knits back together. “Shit…” A cold sweat breaks out on his brow. Zarra’s anxious purr grows louder in volume, and lower in pitch.

“Three more,” Leilani murmurs, a slight strain to their voice.

“Fucking hell.”

Zarra hushes him, frowning as she takes his face in her hands.

"Be easy," she murmurs pleadingly, parroting Kartok now. "Breathe slow and be easy. Please, Amatus."

"I'm fine," Matt groans. "I'm fine, I'm good…”

"Listen to Zarra," Leilani coos. One of their hands presses to Matt’s forehead. "Do not think about the pain. It will be over soon." Zarra keeps her hands curled around his jaw, thumbs brushing softly over his cheekbones. Matt takes a slow, painful breath.

It is only when she leans down to press a kiss to his forehead that he can truly calm and breathe out a soft sigh.

“Very good, Starling,” they murmur. “Very good, almost done now.” Matt swallows roughly, shaking under the gentle hands on him. Kartok’s warmth looms just out of Matt’s reach, close enough to worry and hover, but not enough to touch.

A soft whimper catches Matt’s attention. He doesn’t need to look to know it’s Pidge. Matt swallows against the pain, forces his voice to steady, and opens his eyes to find and focus on his sister.

She’s curled up small against Shiro’s side, wrapped up protectively under one of his arms. Her eyes are wide and glassy behind her lenses. Matt can see her shaking from where he sits. A pit claws itself open, gaping and raw in his gut.

“Katie,” Matt calls—croaks, really—reaching a blood stained hand out toward her. “Come here, Kitten.”

It’s like all she needed was her name on his lips, pulling away from Shiro immediately and stumbling to quickly his side. “Matt,” she whispers. Her eyes are big, like disks of swirling amber, and so scared and sad.

“Hey. I’m fine,” Matt mumbles. “Gettin’ healed right up.” He lets her grab and cling tight, too tight, to his hand. “Lani’s not just pretty, they really know what they’re doing. Best of the best over here.”

Zarra makes a little noise that might have been annoyance if not so colored with worry. “Every time, you do this.”

“Part of my charm.” Matt flashes a grin, grimaces as he can really taste the blood on his tongue. “Fuck, I need water…”

“Just a moment, Commander.” Martek’s soft voice flits over from the console, and Matt gets only a glimpse of the pointed tips of his ears flitting away before he’s scurried out of sight. Martek is the best.

“Yeah, he’s pretty great,” Pidge says, biting down on her lower lip. Matt blinks, it taking a minute for him to realize she’d been answering him. Oh.

“I said that out loud?”

“Yeah…” Pidge frowns. “Are you okay?”

“Oh I’m fine. I hit my head that’s all.” Matt shrugs, smiling nice and easy for her, the worst of the pain fading fast. “But I’m peachy keen, jelly bean!”

“Jelly bean? Has he always been this way?” Zarra asks, looking over to Pidge with an arched brow. “He is brilliant, and yet so nonsensical. Is this something new?”

Pidge blinks, wide eyed and surprised at being addressed so suddenly. “I—no.” She shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest. “He’s always been an idiot.”

“Hey!”

“This makes sense.” Zarra nods, and then offers Pidge a smile. “You will have to share with me the best ways to deal with him. I assume there is no one better to ask. Other than Shiro, of course.” Her smile ends up aimed at Shiro, who couldn’t look more taken aback.

Matt just grins, especially as Martek returns with the water and he finally clears some of the metallic taste from his mouth. Seeing Zarra make an effort like that with his sister and his boyfriend fills him up with warmth. She’s not the best with new people, not like Matt is much better, but still. He didn’t even have to tell her how important it is.

Pidge smiles hesitantly back. She’s got no reason to feel threatened by Zarra—not that Shiro does either, even if he doesn’t understand that yet—and Matt hopes this is an indication that their relationship in the future might be a little easier.

“Alright,” Leilani says softly, fatigue clear in their voice. “All done.” Their hands pull back from Matt’s skin, and they sway in place for a moment, steadied quickly by Kartok pressing into their space. They grace him with a small, tired smile. “Thank you, my heart.”

“Of course,” Kartok murmurs as he settles his arms around their waist, pulling them nice and close against him. There’s the faintest whisper of honey overriding the tang of blood on Matt’s tongue. Kartok hums softly as he too can taste it, and then speaks, very softly. “Matthew, how do you feel?”

“Sticky,” he says immediately. It’s the truth and the most dominant thing aside from an all-over ache that he knows will fade after a few hours.

“Matthew,” Leilani frowns, worried still, even as they’re barely keeping themself standing. “Please.”

“Would you go sit down?” Matt frowns right back at them. “Really, I feel fine now. I’m more worried about you right now. All I really need is a thorough shower.” Zarra huffs, but he knows she agrees on both points. Leilani pours too much of themself into their healing, especially when the person they’re healing is kin.

“You’re okay?” Pidge asks. Her grip tightens on his hand.

“You’re kind of breaking my fingers, but other than that I’m fine.” Matt squeezes her hand back, as much as he can. “Leilani fixed me right up. I’m as good as new.”

“You have new scars,” Zarra murmurs. Her fingers are light and quick, brushing back Matt’s bangs to inspect the small scar at his hairline. “You must be more careful, Amatus.”

“And you’re a hypocrite.” Matt rolls his eyes, twisting in his chair to look at her, satisfied at the mere minor ache that pulls at his side. “I’m gonna remember this when it’s your turn in the chair.”

Pidge surprises him by launching herself forward, arms curling tight around his neck with a hug. There’s the faintest sound of a subvocal trill from Leilani, quiet and sweet in the air. Matt doesn’t think Pidge can hear it, not with the, “You idiot!” she sobs too loud and too close to his ear.

Matt blinks, brain running a second or two behind, making him pause before wrapping his arms around his sister’s shaking frame.

“Katie—”

“Shut up!” she demands. “Just—shut up! I just got you back, and then you ran off to do something stupid and noble and murdery. You didn’t even say goodbye!”

Oh Katie. Matt sighs and presses a kiss her hair. “I had to go. That was my team, I handpicked them all. I had to go.” She whimpers against his chest, face pressed right against a jagged scar that cuts him shoulder to ribs. Pidge holds on tighter for two, three heartbeats before pulling back, just her hands ending up on his shoulders. Her eyes are too bright, cheeks damp with the tears she just shed onto his skin, and there’s a smear of blood that Matt reaches up to gently wipe away.

“Don’t take stupid risks.” Pidge’s brow furrows deeply. Matt opens his mouth to answer, but she holds up a hand to stop him before he can start. “I know this was important to you, I get that, but a cut at your hairline means we weren’t wearing a helmet and that’s just dumb. I know you don’t do promises, or I’d make you give me one now, but don’t be stupid! And don’t tell me it’s not, because Commander Zarra just said it too and Shiro’s being weird!” She looks over her shoulder, whipcrack fast, to look at Shiro. “What the hell are you doing all the way over there?!”

Shiro startles. “What?”

“Get over here!” Pidge demands, honest to God stamping a goddamned foot on the ground.  Matt doesn’t quite catch the laugh that springs to his lips. He can’t help it, that’s definitely something she’s done to him a million times over.

A flicker of hurt crosses Shiro’s face at the laugh, but he sheepishly follows Pidge’s command and sidles to Matt’s side. Matt offers him a hand. Shiro hesitates to take it.

“I don’t have cooties,” Matt jokes around the hurt in his chest. “Honest.”

“Idiot,” Zarra scoffs, shaking her head.

“He’s not,” Shiro says, sharp and unexpected, defiantly taking hold of Matt’s hand. Matt blinks. What?

Pidge frowns, her eyes flicking between Shiro and an unbothered Zarra. “Okay,” she says slowly, drawing the word out.

“Hey.” Matt squeezes Shiro’s hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.“ It’s short, clipped and a total lie.

Matt frowns. “Shiro.”

“Nothing is wrong.”

Shiro won’t meet his eyes, so Matt just sighs and starts working toward getting himself out of the chair.

“What are you doing?” Pidge asks immediately.

He raises an eyebrow at her and explains in his best condescending-big-brother voice, “I’m standing up. So I can go shower.”

“It is fine, Pidge,” Leilani assures her. “There are no more injuries of concern, only the bruises and aches that must heal on their own.”

She still looks nervous but doesn’t impede Matt’s groaning journey to his feet.

“It would be easier if you complained less,” Zarra mutters, despite the fact that she’s supporting Matt under one arm. Shiro is at his other side, holding tight to Matt’s hand.

“You go get a concussion and break a bunch of ribs and then tell me not to complain,” he grumbles back.

She rolls her eyes. “You are not helping your case.”

“I’m injured, be nice to me.”

Zarra responds only with a little _bah!_ sound and a shake of her head. She then raises their joined hands to press a kiss to Matt’s wrist, not paying any mind to the dried blood left on his skin. Matt smiles, the usual warmth rushing through his veins, soaking up the nice, familiar feeling.

Shiro stiffens at Matt’s side and his fingers twitch around Matt’s own.

Matt sighs. “Can I get Shiro alone for a bit?”

Pidge pouts just slightly, but Zarra immediately backs off with a warmly understanding smile. “Of course. Pidge, would you like to come with us up to the Commanders’ lounge?”

“Me?” Pidge asks, blinking at Zarra.

“Yes.” Zarra nods. “I would relish the chance to get to know you, kin of my kin, better. As I think Leilani and Kartok would as well.”

“We spoke for a short while earlier, but yes, another chance, a calmer one, would be welcome.” Kartok smiles warmly while Leilani nods eagerly, their eyes as bright as they are tired. “If that is something that is welcome for you, Pidge.”

“Um… yeah,” she says, edging a worried glance at her brother. “I guess—I’ll talk to you later, Matt?”

“Plan on tomorrow morning,” Matt tells her. “The healing’s probably gonna knock me out before too long.” Pidge nods, hesitating before launching herself at Matt again, hugging him tight. Matt chuckles, ruffling her hair. “Goodnight, Katie.”

“Night,” she mutters, cheek smushed against his chest. Her grip tightens, and then disappears entirely. “Night Shiro.”

Shiro smiles, some of his tension slipping away as he gets a squeeze of his own. “Goodnight. See you in the morning.”

She glances around nervously through the chorus of parting goodnights between Matt and his kin, and again over her shoulder as the other Commanders lead the way out. Leilani still leans heavily on Kartok, but Zarra stays at at Pidge’s side, engaging her in a conversation that has Pidge distracted before they’ve even left the hangar.

Matt smiles, then sighs as he watches them go. "So. I think there's some things we need to talk about."

“Yeah,” Shiro agrees quietly. He doesn’t move at all, not even a twitch of his hand in Matt’s. “Even after we talked before, I think there’s a lot I’m not understanding.”

Matt nods. “Go ahead and ask.” He’s got an idea of what’s on Shiro’s mind, but he’s learned not to preempt conversation.

“You said…” Shiro’s start is hesitant, his gaze averted, like they’re uncertain kids again. “Before, you said you were close with Zarra. That you’re—kin. But you’re closer to her than the others?”

There’s something unsaid beneath the surface, but Matt responds to Shiro’s words. “Yeah.”

“But you still love me.” It’s only the soft volume that turns it into a question.

“I do,” Matt affirms, “but Zarra is the most important person to me.”

Shiro flinches.

With a sigh, Matt says, “Okay, that might have been a little defensive. It’s not like you know what’s going on—”

“Then tell me, Matt.”

“I love you,” he says bluntly. “You gotta understand that right now, Takashi, okay?” When he gets nothing more than a flicker of Shiro’s gaze to the side, he continues, “It’s complex with me and Zarra, but I swear it’s not what you’re thinking. I didn’t lie to you before. She’s never taken your place.”

“Matt, I saw you kiss her.” Shiro finally meets Matt’s eyes and his face is full of hurt, of betrayal and misunderstanding, a frayed thread held together only by their linked hands. “And with how you two were when—since you came back—”

“I am not in love with Zarra. I have always been in love with you and only you. But she—” He sighs, squeezing his eyes closed momentarily while he tries to dredge up phrasing that Shiro will understand. “I didn’t get to choose her, Shiro. She’s just—she’s my soulmate.”

There’s utter silence. Matt can hear his own heart beating in his ears while he waits for Shiro to react.

“She—soulmate?” His voice breaks on the word.

“Yeah,” Matt says quietly. He’s had a long time to mull over these words, trying to explain to himself what he feels. “Soulmate. She’s my kin, yeah, but it’s deeper than that. Different. More. It’s important. She’s the person I reach for in the dark, the one who can lead me back toward the light. She’s the first person I think about when I think of coming home, and the one I come back to base for after every mission.” His heart throbs, thinking of the dozens of times he’s refused to promise her just that, and her quiet acceptance and return of that unspoken agreement. “But I’m not in love with her.”

“You’re not.”

“No.”

There’s another long silence broken only by their uneven breaths.

“You’re not in love with her, but she’s all these things to you—” Shiro swallows hard. “What am I, then? What are _we_?”

“You’re my boyfriend. We’ve covered this.”

“But—Zarra—”

“Shiro,” Matt says, turning to face him. “Listen to me. I have never once stopped loving you, even when I thought you were dead. I’ve never wanted to stop. You’re it for me, you’re the love of my fucking life however long it lasts, but I don’t know what you expect me to say here. I want you to be my boyfriend, my partner, whatever terminology you want to use. I want us to be together.”

“So do I,” Shiro whispers. “God, Matt, I want that so badly, but—we said those things, and then I see you with her, and—”

“Okay, okay, you keep talking like Zarra and I are quote-unquote _involved._ I’m not with her like that!” He runs a hand through his hair and winces at the tackiness of drying blood.

Shiro picks up on that all too easily. “You need to clean up.”

“Goddammit! We’re having this conversation—”

“I’m not trying to get out of it! But you’re covered in fucking blood, Matt.”

Matt glances down at his hand, then back up at Shiro. “Come with me.”

“I—what?”

“Come with me. Then I can go shower and I don’t have to leave you.”

“Come with you?”

“Is there an echo in here? Usually I gotta have Martek around for that kind of treatment,” Matt says dryly. He takes a step forward and tilts sideways. Shiro is there immediately to steady him, eyes wide with concern. “Thanks, flyboy.”

“Where are we going?” Shiro holds tight to Matt’s hand again as they head out of the hangar.

“My quarters again. I’ve got a private shower in there.”

* * *

 

They don’t quite make it to his room.

Hell, they barely make it halfway. The walk from the hangars is clouded in tentative silence. Matt thinks they might have done that the whole way if not for the way Shiro stops them, wide eyed, and says, “Your armor.”

Matt blinks, glancing down at his bare chest. “Huh. Look at that. I forgot I took it off.” Now that it’s been mentioned, Matt is aware of the chill on his skin from the halls. An involuntary shiver runs through him.

“You must be cold,” Shiro frowns. His eyes flick over Matt’s scars again, quickly returning to his face.

“Don’t worry,” Matt waves it off, shaking his head. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” Shiro murmurs. He hesitates for a split second before wrapping an arm around Matt, pulling him close into his own body heat. Such a simple thing, something that was once so familiar for them, and something that now feels so special. Matt nearly swoons.

He grins up at Shiro. “I feel like such a damsel in distress right now.”

Shiro laughs, the briefest flash of a grin on his lips. It’s dazzling, a smile Matt knows is just his,  has always been his. It lights up Shiro’s eyes, no matter how fleeting it might be. It melts tension from his face and shoulders, it brings him back to the kids they once were. Shiro doesn’t get a chance to follow that laugh, that grin, with anything else as Matt cuts him off with a sudden kiss.

A little noise of surprise, a shadow of tension, and then Shiro leans into the kiss with a sigh. The second arm snakes around Matt’s back as he’s tugged flush to Shiro’s chest.

Matt smiles against his lips. “I’m gonna assume that means that was okay,” he murmurs. “That was okay, right?”

“Yes,” Shiro breathes back. The cool palm of his prosthetic presses to Matt’s skin, making him shiver again. Shiro immediately rescinds the touch. “Sorry,” he says quickly. “I—”

“Just a little cold to the touch, that’s all.” Matt smiles, catching a hand on the metal wrist. “No need to apologize. If anyone gets it, it’s me.” He laughs.

“I wish you didn’t.” Shiro doesn’t pull his hand from Matt’s grasp, doesn’t fight him when Matt resettles it back on his waist. “The legs… Matt, I’m so sorry.”

“Why?”

“If I hadn’t—”

“If you hadn’t, what, saved me?" He frowns. "We both know I would have died in the arena, Shiro. Now I might stand a chance or two, but then? Never in a million years. That’s a fact. The legs are _not_ your fault.” Matt keeps his voice quiet but firm. “If anything, I should be apologizing to you.”

“What?” Shiro startles. “Why would you—”

“You took my place, Shiro. I don’t know what happened to you, but clearly something did.” Matt raises a hand and frames it to Shiro’s cheek. His fingertips just skim the edge of the wide, brutal scar across his nose. Matt would argue that it's worse than any of the ones he's got.

Solemn quiet falls between them, falls like the all the time they spent apart and the things that changed them both. Shiro is the first one to drop his gaze. Matt sighs.

“We’re both pretty screwed up, aren’t we?” His thumb traces over the arch of Shiro’s cheekbone.

“Well and truly damaged, I’d say,” Shiro murmurs. He leans into Matt’s touch, fingers pressing tighter against Matt’s back. “But… at least we’re together.” He glances up, and Matt’s heart stutters out of time.

“That’s the spirit, baby.” Leaning up to close the distance between them is easy, stealing a kiss even easier. The air is still heavy with tension, but Shiro melts against Matt and nothing else seems to matter.

“I love you,” Shiro whispers between kisses.

Matt smiles against his lips and whispers back, “I love you too.” He presses Shiro into the wall, kissing him for all he’s worth, as his arms loop around Shiro’s neck and he wishes they were skin-to-skin.

Shiro groans softly when Matt tucks one knee between his thighs. “Matt…”

“Yeah baby?” He’s too busy leaving clumsy kisses over Shiro’s neck to look up at him.

“We’re—you’re shirtless and we’re making out in a hallway,” he breathes. “We still have to talk and I... I don’t think we want anyone to catch us like this here any more than we ever did back at the Garrison…”

Matt pauses and pulls away just slightly. “My quarters. Now.”

The pace they set can only be called a hurry, Matt holding tight to Shiro’s hand as he leads the way to his room. They stop only long enough to steal kisses around corners and trade breathless laughter in the elevator.

As soon as Matt gets them both inside his room and the door locked at their backs, he’s crowding Shiro back against a wall, pinning him there and deepening the kiss they abandoned earlier.

Shiro gasps at the sudden rough treatment but doesn't back down. Instead, he responds, biting at Matt’s lips, licking into his mouth, and sliding his fingers into Matt's hair. It’s long enough for the moment that he gets a good grip, one that makes Matt gasp and groan.

He hasn’t been kissed like this in so long. Since the Garrison, really—Shiro was far too timid about affectionate displays on the Kerberos mission, and although Matt’s traded physical intimacy with his kin, it’s never been anything like _this._ Desperately, aggressively needy, mutual hunger feeding each other’s desires. He needs to be closer to Shiro, _now_.

“Shiro,” Matt groans. “Come on—” Without breaking away entirely, he pulls at Shiro’s top, the soft fabric bunching in his fingers. “Strip down for me, handsome. Wanna see you.”

Shiro laughs, one hand running up Matt’s side, nice and slow, making him shudder and press even closer, absolutely no space left between them, only that damned shirt. “What’s the rush? You’ve never been one to hurry things along before.”

“Fucking tease,” Matt growls around a grin. “Maybe I just want you to catch up, huh? I mean I’ve got my top off already. Just waiting on you.”

There’s a long enough pause, a hint of hesitation, that Matt looks at Shiro, and remembers his earlier reluctance to take off his shirt.

“You don’t have to,” he murmurs, kissing him again, but softer. “Sorry, got caught up… forgot you might not want to.” He kisses Shiro’s cheek, brushing the corner of his mouth. “You don’t have to, baby.”

“I… I want to,” Shiro whispers. His fingers flex against Matt’s ribs, mindful of the spot where bruises still stain his skin. “Just… I don’t look the way I did, Matt…”

“Neither do I.” Matt smiles gently for him. “It’s not hard to see I’m not the skinny stringbean I was, Shiro. And you’ve already seen my scars.”

“You weren’t skinny. You were… lean.” Shiro’s lips cant up in tease of a smile. “Now…” His gaze trails down over Matt’s chest, bypassing the scars and seeing him as he is. Matt can’t help the swell of pride in his chest when Shiro reflexively pulls him closer, grip turned possessive and hot with want.

“Yeah?” Matt teasingly prompts.

“Well, you’ve clearly been training harder than you did for Kerberos,” Shiro teases back.

“Swinging around a sword and stave every day is way more fun than treadmills.”

Shiro just laughs, a smile settling onto his face as he reaches for the hem of his shirt. He still hesitates a moment, leading Matt to remind him gently, “You don’t have to. We can just talk instead.”

Shiro shakes his head. “I want to.” In one swift motion, like he’s ripping off a bandage, the shirt is pulled off and tossed away.

Matt lets out a low wolf whistle. Shiro was always well-muscled, but this… this is hard-earned, every chiseled line fought for and won, and he _loves_ it. Scars of every shape, size and kind mark Shiro’s chest, overlapping and long since healed over, but Matt doesn’t care. He wants his hands on every square millimeter of skin and scar.

Shiro blushes slightly and his hands curl at Matt’s hips.

“Damn, and I thought I liked the view before.” Matt grins and presses closer. The warmth of Shiro’s skin against his own is electrifying.

“Matt,” he murmurs, the blush spreading to the tips of his ears.

Matt leans up to steal a kiss before Shiro can say anything else. “Bathroom. I’m still bloody and I’d like to be something more pleasant.”

Shiro laughs, ducking his head, and then looking back up at Matt almost immediately. “Yes sir,” Commander Holt,” he says, cheeky and fond.

Matt pauses at the little thrill that sends down his spine and the heat that rips through his veins. “Fuck,” he murmurs. “I like the way you say that.”

“Oh, you do?” Shiro smirks, eyes bright. Another wave of heat hits Matt like a fucking brick. Fuck, Shiro looks so good like this, all kiss-swollen and cocky.

“You little shit.” Matt grins. He pulls Shiro into a fast, hot, burning kiss, relishes the little moan Shiro lets slip into his mouth, then breaks away with a grin. "Come on."

Shiro just laughs as Matt drags him along.

He gets the bathroom door open with his elbow and is quick to press Shiro against the counter, kissing him, hands trailing eagerly down his chest.

Shiro lands a hand on Matt's waist, the other in his hair, desperately sinking into the kiss as another moan slips past his lips.

Matt's fingers make quick work of the soft drawstring on Shiro’s borrowed pants. He bites on Shiro's lower lip and tugs, leaning back, just to tease, just to test. Shiro follows with a groan and reciprocates as soon as Matt lets him go, sucking and teasing. His hand at Matt's waist slips lower so he can pull at the remaining bits of the flight suit.

"Easy," Matt chuckles, pulling back for real, putting just a breath’s space between them. "There's some bells and whistles. Let me help you out, baby."

Shiro groans reluctantly, but he lets Matt step away enough to get the flight suit off, watching how he does it just in case.

Matt undoes the belt at his waist first, then peels away the thinner, blood-soaked straps that wrap around his thighs to reveal a previously hidden inch of prosthetic metal. There's a moment more of fiddling, detaching a small bit of tech, which Matt handles delicately as he sets it on the counter. "Stealth," he explains to Shiro, removing a similar addition from the other leg. "Full cover camouflage when they’re on. Blacks everything out, so I'm not given away by reflected light or something."

"That's—that's kind of genius," Shiro says, eyes suddenly wide. "Shit, we need to do that with my arm. I usually just wear the armor over it but the hand glows when I activate it…”

"I don't know if it'll stop a glow, but I'm always happy to have my genius recognized." Matt grins. "So thanks for that, handsome."

"I've got years' worth of compliments to make up for," Shiro murmurs, reaching out again to rest his hands on Matt's waist as he undoes the last pieces of his suit.

"I'm more than willing to receive them." Matt laughs and grins as he strips completely out of his suit, tossing it in the vague direction of the bin his clothes are supposed to go in to be cleaned. "Your turn."

It takes Shiro a moment to shake himself out of openly staring at Matt, but he eventually fumbles out of the rest of his own clothes.

Matt takes a moment to watch and appreciate, stretching his arms over his head, cracking his back, wincing at the lingering burn of his shoulder, but really he just focuses on Shiro. He’s finding it difficult not to drool.

Once Shiro is bare, Matt silently congratulates himself for having such good ideas.

"You look smug," Shiro chuckles.

Matt grins at him. "I am so fucking smug. Look at you, like—fuck! Honestly. You were always too pretty to function, but now you're just fucking unreal."

"You're one to talk," Shiro laughs, clearly pleased as he flushes with the praise. "Jesus, Matt…” He steps closer, fitting his hands neatly to Matt's hips.

"Is there an end to that sentence?" Matt asks, arching up on his toes, looping his arms loosely around Shiro's neck. "Go on,” he purrs, leaning in and smirking. “Tell me I'm pretty, baby."

"You're fucking gorgeous," Shiro whispers, then kisses him deep and searching.

Once upon a time Matt would have blushed red to the tips of his ears, gone sheepish and shy and been mewling into the kiss Shiro gave him. But now? He grins against his lips and cants his hips against Shiro's, drawing out a moan, licking into his mouth, wanting to taste him.

Matt kisses him until they're both breathless before settling his feet flat on the floor again, walking them both back toward the small shower. "Come on," he murmurs. “Shower.”

Shiro follows without hesitation.

"This good with you?" Matt asks. He reaches one hand back to fumble the shower on. "Say the word and we'll stop, Takashi. "

"Yeah, this is—fuck, Matt, this is great," Shiro laughs, half stunned.

"Just checking." Matt laughs with him, grinning wide and bright. He feels so much younger and lighter than he has in a long time. Doesn't matter that he stepped out of that pod bleeding and tired and in immeasurable amounts of pain. Doesn't matter that the true grief and ache of losing the Betas still hasn’t hit him, buried first beneath anger and now grim satisfaction, doesn’t fucking matter that earlier, he bared his soul, his story, and his trauma to the people he loves most. Doesn't matter.

He's got Shiro, right here, right now. That's something he didn't have this morning, something he didn't think he could ever have again. And that matters more than anything.

Matt pulls them both under the spray and tugs Shiro close, partly to feel every inch of him, but also because they don't exactly have the luxury of ample space on this ship. It’s not as if Matt is going to complain. It's been far too long since he's had his Takashi pressed against him like this.

He sighs, forehead leaned against Shiro's shoulder, the hot water beating down on his back. "Shiro," he murmurs, pressing kisses to his chest. "Will you just touch me? Just—let me feel you."

"Only if you'll do the same," Shiro murmurs back, already wrapping his arms around Matt. His hands wander from neck to shoulders down his back and across his hips, exploring every new contour of muscle and scar. Matt, for his part, explores the newly broadened expanse of Shiro’s chest and shoulders, fingers climbing up and up.

Shiro's voice is oddly strangled when he says, "Fuck, Matt… I want you so much."

"You've got me." Matt tightens his grip in Shiro's hair.

Shiro shivers and drops his head to one side, mouthing at Matt's neck, sucking light kisses into the soft skin. Matt leans into the kisses, humming quietly.

"Feels good," he breathes as he slots a thigh between Shiro's legs.

With a hot gasp against Matt's neck, Shiro rocks his hips forward.

"Takashi…” Matt tips his head back more, a bit into the spray of the water. His own hips press forward now in a roll against Shiro's, a low groan falling from his lips.

"I missed this," Shiro whispers into Matt's skin, following it with a rough rasp of his tongue over the sensitive area of the bite he just left.

"I'd almost forgotten this," Matt groans.

"Tried so hard to remember."

"We can make new memories." Matt pulls Shiro back from his neck, grinning. "You interested?"

Shiro grins back and kisses Matt, hot and fast, pressing him up against the wall.

Matt laughs, surprised, and then dives right back in, letting his body relax against the cool wall, giving Shiro every bit of control he wants to take. He’s gasping for air before Shiro breaks the kiss to press beautifully swollen lips over Matt’s neck and collarbone.

Groaning, Matt presses his head back into the wall. His fingers skim through Shiro's hair.

Shiro leaves a trail of kisses down Matt's chest, skimming his teeth and nuzzling at his hip. He settles on his knees between Matt's legs, a smirk pulling at his lips.

"God, Takashi." Matt swallows and looks down at his lover. "Are you sure about this?"

Shiro snorts. "Matt, I've been waiting to do this again for two and a half years."

"Just checking." Matt pushes the sopping tumble of his bangs out of his face, tangling his fingers in the longer patch of Shiro's hair. He grins down at Shiro, spreading his legs a bit, back arching off the tiles on the wall while Shiro leaves long kisses across his hips and along the soft skin of his lower stomach.

There’s so much about them both that has changed, yet so much about this that is exactly the same. The way Shiro's hands curl at his hips, gentle, reverent. The way he traces over the dip of Matt's hips with his tongue, like he needs to memorize every inch of him.

Shiro pauses when he reaches Matt’s other hip and the large, messy scar there. He traces over the mark with a careful finger. "Can… can I ask where some of these come from, or is that off limits?" he murmurs, glancing up at Matt.

"You can ask." Matt smiles, scratching his nails over Shiro's scalp. "I don't mind."

Shiro’s eyes fall back to the nasty scar on Matt’s hip. "What happened?" he asks quietly.

"Recon mission. About six months ago." Matt traces his thumb along the shell of Shiro's ear. "I was coordinating with an Alpha team in one building as the heavyweight while I ran stealth and retrieval with two Beta hackers I was training. Things got hectic when two of the Alphas ran into some trouble. So I had two people running code in one ear while I got my own data and the two brawlers over the comms. It was just overwhelming enough at the height of things for my concentration to lapse for a few seconds, but that's all it took for me not to notice the asshole coming up in my blind spot. Close range shot with an electrified spear."

Shiro flinches at the description, running his thumb over the mark again. “Ouch,” he mutters, leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to one torn edge.

Matt closes his eyes, breathing out a sigh. After a pause Shiro keeps kissing down the jagged line of the scar toward the inside of Matt's thigh.

"Careful there," Matt murmurs, smiling at him. "Don't knock your teeth on the tech, baby.”

Shiro laughs. He sounds almost nervous. "I'll be careful. Probably better anyway… it's been a while."

"Been just as long for me." Matt looks at him from under the sweep of his bangs, grinning at him. "Unless you've been hooking up with pretty aliens on the side."

Shiro shakes his head, nose bumping Matt’s bare skin. "You’re the only one for me, Matt,” he murmurs. “There’s only ever been you.”

“God,” Matt breathes, fingers going tighter in Shiro’s hair. “I could listen to you say that forever.”

“I’m pretty sure there are better things I could be doing.” Shiro’s grin is feline, playful, and positively dangerous. Fuck yes.

"Prove it," Matt grins. "Put your money where your mouth is, baby."

Shiro goes right for Matt’s cock, licking a hot line from base to tip.

"Fuck!" Matt groans, head hitting the wall again.

Shiro chuckles low. He curls his prosthetic hand around Matt's hip and uses the other to hold his cock so he can take him in his mouth. The playful aspect has faded into something harder, hotter, something driven by lust and want and Matt can’t get enough.

Matt gets his hand back in Shiro's hair and he pulls, groaning again, low and wordless, almost a growl. Shit. Two and a half years apparently equals little to no stamina. Jesus fucking—"Either you're better at this than you were before, or I'm just real hard up," he groans.

Shiro pulls off and grins up at Matt. "You must be desperate, because I definitely haven't had any practice."

"You were always good at this," Matt muses, breathless and grinning. "Always eager for it too."

"More like eager for you. _Just_ for you." Shiro holds Matt's gaze as he takes him into his mouth again, moving slowly.

Matt grips tight on Shiro's hair again, breath shuddering out of him. God yeah, definitely a mix of it having been too long, and the fact that it’s Shiro, his Takashi, on his knees for him, sucking on his cock and loving it.

"This isn't gonna take long," Matt groans in warning. Shiro hums his acknowledgment around Matt's cock and sends another shudder through him.

"Really won't if you do that, fucking God," Matt rambles around a moan. "Takashi…”

Shiro just hums again, low and vibrating so that Matt makes a choking sound and his hips stutter the slightest bit forward.

Fucking bastard remembers exactly how to work him. Matt grins around another moan. Because he remembers too.

"Takashi, baby," he murmurs, voice like gravel, his teeth catching on his lower lip, tapping the side of Shiro's head to get him to look up, because Shiro is a visual learner. He likes to look as much as he does touch and Matt has always been one of his favorite things to watch.  "Making me feel so good…”

Shiro takes him a little deeper, relaxing his throat on muscle memory, and watches with a blown dark gaze as Matt's eyes roll back.

Matt moans, arching his back off the tile, a hand trailing down his chest, teasing himself. "Shiro, fuck…”

Shiro presses his fingers hard into Matt's hip, holding him tight so he can pick up the pace, still watching. His eyes go darker every time Matt drags his teeth over his lip or makes a show of teasing himself.

"Come on baby," Matt moans, his head falling to the side, plainly showing off the mark Shiro left there mere minutes ago. "I'm so close...."

Shiro keeps his eyes locked on Matt as he hums one last time, and that's the end for Matt. His hips press forward and he cries out wordlessly, fingers curling tight tight tight in Shiro's hair, whimpering as he comes down with Shiro's mouth still around him.

Shiro hums as he swallows around him. His eyes drift closed, everything about him looking like he couldn’t enjoy a single thing more. His thumb strokes over Matt’s hipbone when Matt starts to shiver.

When he pulls off it’s with a pleased cheeky grin aimed up at Matt. "You good?"

Matt's throat works for a few seconds before he manages to choke out, "Jesus fuck."

"So you're really good, then," Shiro chuckles, settling back to rest on his heels.

"Now who’s smug?” Matt laughs.

Shiro ducks his head, chuckling, biting his lip. Matt gets himself down on his level, quick and sharp with the movement and catches Shiro's face in his hands, kissing him deeply, licking the taste of himself from Shiro's mouth.

Shiro groans into the kiss and threads his fingers into Matt's hair.

"Your turn," Matt murmurs, biting at Shiro's lips, getting a hand between them and wrapping his fingers around Shiro's cock.

Shiro's head immediately falls back and Matt latches onto his neck, sucking aggressive marks into the skin.

"Matt," Shiro breathes out, the rush of the shower drowning him out. Matt would have missed him speaking completely if he hadn't felt the words with his lips pressed to his neck.

"Love you, baby," Matt whispers. "You made me feel so good, I just wanna do that for you too."

"Matt," he whimpers, pressing his hips up, a whine stuttering from deep in his chest. Oh Matt could drown in that sound. "Matt, Matt…”

Matt works his hand firmly over Shiro as he leaves a trail of bite marks down his neck. He’s quick to get them moving back, smoothly easing Shiro down onto his back, delighting in the hiss from his lover as he meets the cool tile of the shower floor.

"What do you want?" Matt asks, lips brushing Shiro's ear. "Just tell me what to do, baby, I want to make you feel good."

"You," Shiro manages, breathing heavy already and needing a try or two to get the word out right.

"I gathered that," Matt chuckles, working his hand a little tighter around Shiro's cock.

Shiro moans his name and oh that's music to his ears. Matt bites down on his shoulder, grinning.

It takes Matt only few seconds to finds one sensitive spot in particular along Shiro's collarbones that just breaks him, sends him whining Matt's name, hands clenching tight over his hips. The place is marked now with the dark overlap of scars, but that doesn’t change how sweet Shiro sounds when his voice breaks on a moan.

"Nice to know some things never change," Matt chuckles, biting at his skin again. "And you're still so beautiful, Takashi. Just like before. Always so beautiful."

"God—so are you," Shiro moans, bucking up into Matt's hand, trying to pull him closer every second.

Matt just chuckles and bites at Shiro's neck while he gets pulled closer, the pace of his hand steady even as Shiro’s own pace loses its rhythm. "C'mon, baby. C'mon, you can come for me."

"Matt," he moans, his head falling back, right into the pooling water.

"Don't drown yourself," Matt laughs. "I can't be that bad."

"Shut up, shut up shut up!" Shiro moves quickly, surging up to land a clumsy kiss to Matt’s mouth between moans.

Matt hums into the kisses, holding Shiro close with a hand on the back of his neck, quickening the pace of the one he's got on his cock.

Shiro has to break away from the kiss to bite down on his lip, eyes squeezing closed.

Matt grins. "C'mon, baby…” Shiro comes right then and there and Matt isn't sure if it's just timing, or some divine power of his own, but he doesn't care. It's beautiful to watch Shiro come apart.

Matt bites down on Shiro's collarbone again and sucks a red splotch into his skin while Shiro whimpers and rocks his hips up, working through the orgasm.

Shiro whimpers and presses close, curls around him practically, pulling Matt into his lap.

Matt kisses him hard, messy, really not giving a fuck about appearances right now. "How you doing there, handsome?" he grins.

"Love you," Shiro murmurs, clumsily kisses him back.

"Fuck, Takashi, I love you too. I love you so much."

"I love you." Shiro smiles at him as he says it again, so warm and gentle that it fills Matt up with warmth in kind. 

What's Matt supposed to do other than kiss him?

They're on the floor of his shower, there’s still blood on his skin, and the water is still raining down on them both, but Matt doesn’t care. All he cares about is Shiro's lips on his and the lingering taste of himself on his tongue.

Shiro sighs into the kiss and his hands cradle the back of Matt's head and neck like he's precious. Matt smiles. He’s not planning on moving anytime soon.

* * *

 

“Been one hell of a day,” Shiro says later, after they’ve both actually showered, with only minimal distractions, and gotten dressed once more. He sits with his back against the wall, watching Matt go through messages on a datapad.

“You’re telling me.” Matt sighs, frowning at a diagnostic report from the ground Hub on Shi’or. “Feels like shit just never stops.”

With his arms looped around Matt’s waist, Shiro pulls him a little closer to land a kiss on his shoulder. “How much more do you have to do tonight? You need to sleep, probably more than anybody here.”

Matt smiles. “Almost done,” he murmurs, sinking into the warmth of Shiro’s embrace and the easy domesticity of the moment. “I won’t be long. Just gotta skim these reports and shoot off a few of them to Martek for review.”

Shiro keeps pressing slow, soft kisses over the slope of Matt’s shoulder as he works. Matt is glad he didn’t bother putting a shirt on after they cleaned up, because he can’t get enough of the feeling of Shiro’s lips against his bare skin. He has to keep reminding himself that it’s really him, it’s really Shiro, his Takashi.

It’s a little while before he’s finally able to set the pad aside, but when he does it’s to smile softly and snuggle into Shiro with a contented sigh.

“I missed this,” Matt whispers.

Shiro kisses the curve of his neck. “Me too.”

As Shiro eases them down to the bed, Matt twists in his arms so they’re face-to-face.

“Hi.”

Shiro’s gentle smile is the brightest thing in the dimly lit room. “Hi.”

“I don’t want to sleep. Not when I just got you back.” Matt runs gentle fingertips along the line of Shiro’s jaw.

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Shiro murmurs. He turns his head into Matt’s touch, kissing his hand. “I know it feels like a dream, but it’s real. I’m real.”

“I know you’re real… I’ve never dared to dream about you being here,” Matt whispers. “Would have hurt too much.” His heart clenches, more a reflex than anything. He spent years believing Shiro dead and gone. It’s going to take a while to soothe the lesions that left behind.

A pause lingers between them before Shiro pulls Matt into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry I left you,” he mumbles against Matt’s neck. “I’m sorry I let you think—that you thought I was dead for so long.” His voice breaks on the word _dead_. “I—I did the opposite. I convinced myself you were alive out there, out here, somewhere. Somehow.” When he lifts his head, his eyes are bright. “I’m so glad I was right. I don’t know what I would have done…”

“Hush, don’t do that.”

“But today—you were so badly hurt, Matt, and with all these scars?” His grip tightens infinitesimally. “How many times have you almost—”

“Shit happens, Shiro,” Matt cuts him off. “You can’t think about _almost_ s or what could have gone differently. You just can’t. You’ll drive yourself fucking insane.”

“Matt—”

“Almost doesn’t matter,” Matt says firmly, just a bit of the Commander seeping into his tone. “It happened, it’s done with. Thinking about what could have gone wrong doesn’t change what happened. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m here with you, that we’re in my bed and we’re both alive.”

Shiro nods slowly, his breathing steady in a way that Matt recognizes as almost meditative. The same method he would slip into when he was imprisoned, the one he’s replaced these days with just being close and quiet with Zarra.

That’s something they’ll have to work out, soon. But not now. Right now, finally together, they can just be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #LetShiroSayFuck
> 
> Disclaimer: your authors do not recommend attempting shower sex. If you choose to ignore that advice, please use caution and have a sense of humor. (Which, honestly, is applicable to all sex.)


	9. Chapter 9

Matt is warm when he wakes up.

That in itself isn’t so odd—he and Zarra share beds most nights, after all—but this is too big to be Zarra, too broad and not curled up tight the way she usually sleeps.

It takes the heat source shifting and mumbling unintelligibly before the last day comes flooding back to him and he realizes that it’s  _ Shiro. _

He drags in a shaky breath to quell the relieved, grateful tears that spring to his eyes as sleep fades. It wasn’t his brain playing some horrible trick on him, it wasn’t the dream he hasn’t dared to dredge up since he lost Shiro. It was all real. The shadow of an ache in his ribs confirms that.

Matt opens his eyes to see that Shiro’s got his back to him, sleeping on his side with his natural arm curled up under a pillow and his prosthetic draping over his waist. His breathing is deep and slow, but not quite even. Still asleep, but not quite peacefully. 

Shiro sighs, shoulders bunched up tight with tension, and his prosthetic arm curls tight against him. Matt frowns. That doesn’t look pleasant. 

Carefully, he shifts closer to Shiro, making sure not to let his legs brush against Shiro’s too quickly, and closes what little distance ended up between them in the night. 

“Takashi,” he breathes as he slips his arm over Shiro’s waist, just below the press of the metal arm. He brushes a featherlight kiss between Shiro’s shoulder blades, his heart clenching when he feels how tight and bunched up the muscles there have wound themselves.

Shiro jerks slightly and blinks awake. He flips onto his back, eyes wide as he looks at Matt, prosthetic arm held close. He’s clearly trying to orient himself.

“It’s me,” Matt whispers. “It’s Matt, baby.”

He blinks once more and relaxation slips into him. “Matt,” he whispers.

“Morning, Sunshine.” Matt smiles, gently squeezing Shiro around his middle. “You with me?”

“Yeah… I’m with you.” His gaze clears up some and he breathes out a sigh. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Matt snuggles closer. “You good?”

“Yeah.” Shiro turns on his side, so he’s facing Matt, and smiles. “I’m good. I’m not… the best sleeper these days.” He sighs again. “Bad dreams, you know?”

“Oh I know,” Matt reassures. “I’ve had more than my fair share of rough nights.” He lands a hand on Shiro’s chest, just off center from his heart. There’s the faintest beating of it under his palm. Matt can’t help but lightly tap a finger to match its steady pattern. 

Shiro’s eyes drift closed at the touch. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?” he murmurs.

“Not at all.”

“What time is it, anyway?”

“Early, I’d guess, but it’s hard to tell.” Matt reluctantly pulls away to turn on the small display at the side of his bed. Squinting at the numbers that come to life at his touch, he groans. “God, it’s barely morning.” 

“Never thought I’d see the day where you became an early riser,” Shiro chuckles, the sound barely more than a low rasp. A shiver prickles it’s way down Matt’s spine, settling at his tailbone and melting into a warm puddle. 

“I prefer not to be.” He sighs, shuts off the display, and rolls back over to press close into Shiro’s embrace. “We’ve still got a couple hours before breakfast. And even Martek won’t ping me to see if I’m awake for another hour at least unless there’s an emergency.”

“Let’s hope there’s not,” Shiro mutters while his arms wrap around Matt. “Yesterday more than filled that quota if you ask me.”

“I’ll make sure fate and circumstance pencil you in to get your opinions next time.” Matt chuckles, happy to snuggle into his lover’s warmth. “Last I checked, though, they were both too busy being fucking bitches to listen to either one of us.”

Shiro’s laugh gets buried in Matt’s hair. 

“Well, if we’ve got all this time, what do you want to do with it? I know I won’t be able to go back to sleep,” Shiro admits.

“Me either.” Matt grins, pushing himself up on an elbow. “I’ve got a few ideas for us…”

Shiro moves with him to settle into something more closely resembling a sitting position. “I’m all ears.” 

“Not the part of you I need at attention, babe,” Matt snickers before kissing Shiro, curling a hand around the back of his neck. Shiro laughs against his lips and pulls him closer. 

* * *

“Good morning!” Leilani’s cheerful trill rings clear through the air when Matt and Shiro enter the dining hall quite a few hours later. They’re certainly not the last to arrive to breakfast. Leilani and Kartok sit at the head table already, and a few other chairs are disturbed, if empty for the moment. “How are you feeling, Starling?”

Matt grins as sweetness floods his tongue. “Couldn’t be better,” he answers honestly. Shiro squeezes his hand. Leilani beams and starts to giggle. 

“What is it, my heart?” Kartok asks, smile soft and drenched in love.

“Nothing,” Leilani says, voice wavering with more sweet laughter. “Nothing at all.” Matt just smirks. He can only imagine what his and Shiro’s auras taste like right now. Shiro must be thinking the same thing as a blush stains his cheeks. 

“Come on, flyboy.” Matt tugs on his hand, leading Shiro to sit across from Leilani and Kartok. 

Leilani immediately reaches over to hand them plates and push dishes of food toward them, bright colored fruits and steaming pastries, the many bizarre things Matt has gotten used to eating over the last few years. “You enjoyed your evening?” they ask with that coy smile lingering on their lips.

“Sure did.” Matt loads up his plate, glancing up when someone else walks through the door—Pidge and Lance this time. “Hey, Katie-cat!”

“Hi!” She practically bounces over to claim a seat next to him and grins all the way. “You look way better than you did last night.”

“I feel it, too,” he chuckles. He leans over and drops a kiss to the top of her head, Iike he used to every morning back on Earth. It earns him a bright, sparkly eyed grin. 

“Where’s Keith?” Shiro asks, his arm landing on the back of Matt’s chair.   


“Ortraz took him to the training deck,” Kartok supplies while offering a platter of fruit out to Pidge with a smile. “Keith was interested in meeting Rel and Baerl. They are paired to run Alpha Two training this morning before Baerl leaves for Shi’or.”

“Do they fight with swords?” Lance asks, grinning as he accepts fruit Pidge offers him without looking in his direction. “Cause he’ll be all over that.”

“They fight with everything,” Matt chuckles. “Rel doesn’t run active missions anymore, but he’s my strike team training captain. If you can kill someone with it, odds are he knows how to use it. Baerl is partial to her guns, but she’s pretty stab happy too.”

Lance snorts. “Then she’ll get on great with Keith.”

Shiro sighs. Matt looks up at him with a smile.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks softly, leaning into Shiro. He grabs a pastry he thinks Shiro will like and drops it onto his plate for him.

“I’d rather Keith come have breakfast with everyone than go off on his own,” Shiro mutters, squeezing Matt’s hand. He casts a glance around the rest of the table, a small frown creasing his brow. “Where is everyone else?”

“I believe Princess Allura is on her way,” Leilani says lightly, “and the yellow paladin should be joining us at any moment—”

“Guys,  _ look _ at this!” Hunk’s boisterous enthusiasm carries to the table as he steps through the doors from the kitchen, !oshi smiling at his side. He carries one of the heavy decorative trays that Leilani uses to present refreshments to guests, piled high with a selection of what Matt knows is mostly fruit tarts.

“You found pie?” Lance asks, arching a brow high. 

“This isn’t pie,” Hunk says fervently. “It’s tarts. With a crust. A _ real  _ crust!” He sets the tray down on the table with a resounding thud. “It tastes like graham crackers, Lance. Actual flipping graham crackers! Do you know what this means?!”

“Why don’t you tell us, Hunk?” Pidge says, voice wavering with held back laughter. 

He grins at her brightly. “It means I can repurpose the ingredients to make actual crackers back at the castle and then we can make s’mores!”

“I take it you have been enjoying yourselves this morning?” Kartok asks with a smile.    
  
“Yes, Commander,” !oshi trills happily. Their voice hangs in the air, the soft, lingering, breathy quality of it something that still catches Matt off guard even after so long. “The yellow paladin has been delighted with our base stores and wishes for copies of many of the recipes stored in the kitchen’s systems. I have asked Martek to help me compile a drive to send along with him.” 

“I’m going to have so many new things to try!” Hunk throws his arms in the air, his excitement something bright and wholly effusive. Matt can’t help but grin. 

“Lovely!” Leilani beams. “I am so glad to know we can send a bit of the Coalition home with you.” Like Hunk’s happiness, theirs is contagious. Citrus bursts in Matt’s mouth. He would swear it’s coating his teeth with how strong it is, only growing with the warm rumble of Kartok’s laughter threading in the air. 

Hunk’s eyes go wide and a hand shoots up to his mouth. “Woah,” he breathes. 

“Holy crow!” Lance whips around in his chair. “What’s that?”

“Oh wow,” Pidge breathes, looking to Leilani. “ _ That’s _ your happiness?”

Leilani laughs softly, almost sheepishly. They serenely fold two hands in their lap and rest the other two on the table next to their plate. “Yes, it is. My apologies.”

“I don’t think you have to apologize for that.” Shiro smiles warmly. “That was lovely, Leilani. Thank you for sharing it with us.” 

Matt’s heart swells in time with the new spark of citrus in his mouth at the genuine kindness to his kin. He takes and squeezes Shiro’s hand, pressing a quick kiss to his knuckles while Leilani explains their empathic abilities to Lance and Hunk; apparently they had that conversation with Shiro and Pidge last night.

They settle into something that feels almost normal, Hunk asking Leilani eager questions about their flavors, Pidge chatting with Kartok, and Matt just sitting back and taking it all in. His family, his love, his kin, all together—it’s more than he could have ever imagined. More than he would have dared allow himself.

Shiro seems to be on the verge of relaxation by the time Allura sweeps into the hall and his posture slams upright once more. “Princess,” he greets her.

The other Commanders’ polite salutations follow and Allura takes a seat at the table. 

“Paladins, we should be leaving soon,” she informs them. All three of the younger ones pout. “Coran is waiting for us at the Castle and we have work to do that cannot be accomplished here.”

“Of course, you must not neglect your own work,” Kartok says calmly just before taking a sip of some warm drink whose components Matt still hasn’t figured out. 

“Someone’s gonna have to get Keith.” Lance is already pushing back in his chair. “You know he won’t have his comm on.”

“I’m right here,” Keith calls, wiping at his face with a towel. “Ortraz pulled me away when he had to leave to go and get Commander Zarra.”

Matt snorts. “Of course she’s not up yet.”

Kartok chuckles and observes, “You should know this better than anyone, Matthew.”

As Keith takes a seat at her other side, Pidge hands him a few pieces of fruit and a drink. “Why would Matt know that?” she asks blithely.

“He is usually there and waking up himself,” Leilani answers with a sweet laugh. “Matthew’s habits are not much better than Zarra’s, and they are both all the worse for how often they stay together and encourage one another.”

Shiro has stiffened up again. Matt squeezes his hand and swallows back a sigh. Just when he thought Shiro might have been opening up to the idea of Zarra… 

Keith shrugs, thanking Pidge for the food. “They should be here soon. He said as much anyway.”

“I would not count on her to be much of a conversationalist.” Kartok’s voice is dry but fond, as it usually is when speaking of his kin’s quirks.

Zarra finally does stumble through the door a little while later. Ortraz is right at her back, steering her to the table with one massive hand on her shoulder.

“Good morning, Commanders, Princess, Paladins,” he rumbles. “Commander Zarra will be joining us momentarily.”

“Oh, shut up, Ortraz.” Her eyes are all but closed and there’s a sleepy scowl on her face, but she manages to clumsily drop into a seat next to Kartok and press close to his side.

Kartok chuckles, just as tender as ever. One of his burly arms settles snugly around Zarra. “Thank you, Ortraz,” he says, looking up at the Galran. Matt moves on instinct, pulling his hand from Shiro’s so he can get up and reach for the tray Hunk brought out, selecting one of Zarra’s favorite tarts.    
  
Kartok accepts it on Zarra’s behalf, Leilani chuckles, reaching around Kartok to cup a hand to Zarra’s cheek.    
  
“Open your eyes, Zarra,” They coo. “You must eat.”

“I am not a kit,” she mutters, the scowl deepening. Her eyes open barely enough to reach out and take the tart before she snuggles back into Kartok’s side to eat in peace. Despite her mood, she starts to purr, making all the Commanders smile. 

Matt catches Pidge stifling a giggle at the sound, and Keith’s fondly raised eyebrow in her direction. She sticks her tongue out at him and he rolls his eyes. Lance is grinning at them both, while Hunk hides his own laugh in his drink. 

Allura, on the other hand, seems to be politely ignoring Zarra’s less couth habits as she picks at a selection of foods. Matt has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. If only she knew that Zarra has as much of a claim to a throne as she does, maybe she’d be less high-and-mighty. Really, they’re in almost the same situation: princesses without their people, struggling for vengeance.

...Well, okay, Allura doesn’t look like the type for revenge. Matt will take Zarra’s version any day. Especially because she doesn’t sneer at people’s manners.

“Commander Holt.”

Matt jumps at the sound of his name coming from Allura’s mouth. Fuck, can she read minds? He’s never met a being that  _ truly _ can, but if one exists, he’d put his money on the Alteans.

He steadies his heart and voice enough to respond, “Princess. Did you need something?”

She daintily pushes her plate aside and says calmly, “Might I have a word with you? Alone?”

A few months ago, Matt wouldn’t have been able to cover his surprise at the request. He hasn’t spoken to her since the meeting ended the day before, and even then it was barely more than simple pleasantries. Allura had barely been able to look at him after he’d gone off on her and told his story, and he’d only seen her for a few scant moments before leaving on his mission. A few months ago his eyes would have gone wide and he’s sure he would have stumbled over his words, but now he manages a smooth nod. 

“Of course, Princess.” 

Shiro blinks in surprise, either at the request from Allura or Matt’s cordial tone, and his hand tightens on Matt’s hand before letting go entirely. Matt smiles for him. 

“Don’t miss me too much, handsome.” 

He can feel his sister’s eyes on him as he stands, knows she can read the tension in the air between him and Allura, knows she has no idea what it is or why it’s there and Matt knows he will never let her know. He’ll make damn sure of that. Matt leads the way out into the hall, taking them just around the nearest corner before he turns with arms crossed. “Did you want something more private than this?”

Allura shakes her head. “No, this will do, thank you.”

“Well, you wanted a word, go ahead and have it.”

Her lips purse tightly, and her hands fold primly in front of her. “I think it is correct to say that you and I have not gotten off to a favorable start.”

Matt keeps his snort to something almost diplomatically acceptable, something that would only earn him a bare sigh from Leilani. “I think you’re right. Are you looking to fix that?”

“Given how closely we are likely to be linked, not only through our alliance but through Pidge and Shiro, it seems the best course of action.” She tilts her chin up just slightly, that universal sign of a stubborn royal who’s decided their idea is the right one.

In this case, though, Matt thinks he might agree.

“I can play nice, Princess. Can you?”

“I am well versed in diplomatic matters, Commander Holt,” Allura says stiffly. 

“That’s not what I meant.” Matt rolls his eyes. “If it was as simple as smiling pretty and shaking your hand every time I saw you at a function or a meeting then that’d be fine, sure, whatever. But Pidge is my little sister, and I love Shiro more than anything. I’m not letting them go. I’m going to be around, we’re going to have deal with each other. And that’s going to have to be more than diplomacy.”

Her brow wrinkles the tiniest bit. “I am not sure I follow.”

“Things like this,” he says, gesturing back toward the dining hall. “We’re probably going to see each other in casual situations more than around a negotiating table. Pleasantries aren’t gonna cut it.”

Allura nods slowly. “I understand. I cannot promise friendship, per se—”

“I wasn’t asking for it.”

“—but cordiality, well, that is easy enough.” A small, almost wry smile quirks up her lips. “There is something your sister says… I think it may apply in this situation? ‘Fake it until you make it’?”

Matt barks a laugh out of sheer surprise at that phrase coming from Allura. He can just hear Pidge rattling it off as she sprints off on some wild hair. A smirk that’s more smile than not cracks his face, and he says, “Yeah, I think we can manage that.”

Allura smiles back at him, a real smile, one that reaches her eyes and Matt can’t help but notice like he did when he first saw her that she really is beautiful. “I will admit freely that when I have thought about meeting you… I had imagined it very differently. Imagined you differently.” She ducks her head, laughing once, very softly. “Pidge talked about you so often. And Shiro, so… fondly.”

Matt wishes he could smile with her. “I’m not the person they knew. I don’t think they really get that yet… but I _ can’t  _ be the person they knew. He’s long gone.”

She pauses, considering him, before she says gently, “None of us are the people we were before this war. We have all lost too much. But,” she adds as the smile reappears and softens, “Shiro and Pidge are so lucky to have recovered one of their losses. They are lucky to have found you again, Commander. And no one could begrudge them that.”

Matt straightens a little and nods. Maybe they’re not so far from the same page as he thought.

* * *

“I don’t want to go,” Pidge mutters, face pressed tight against Matt’s chest.

“I’m not the one telling you you gotta.” Matt hugs her tight. “You’re the one who went and got yourself wrapped up in this Defenders of the Universe shit.”

She whines into his shirt and Matt just laughs. “Go on, Kitten, go save everybody. You know where to find me now, right?”

Pidge untucks her face from their close embrace, eyes shining with her soft smile up at him. “Yeah. I know where you are.”

“And—” Matt pauses to fiddle with his wrist comm. Pidge’s lights up seconds later. “Now you’ve got the linkup to my personal line.”

“I can call you?” she asks delightedly.

He laughs again, pressing an obnoxious kiss to her cheek. “Sure can. I won’t even hang up on you like I do to Martek.”

“I’m sure Martek would appreciate if you broke the habit entirely.” Shiro joins them with a smile of his own and ruffles Pidge’s hair. 

“Martek would appreciate it if I stopped a lot of the things I do.” Matt grins widely at him.  He glances over his shoulder, raising his voice. “Wouldn’t you, Martek?”

“Many, many things, sir,” Martek drawls, glancing up from his pad. “But staying on comms would be an excellent place to start, if you are taking suggestions.”

Matt snorts and looks back to Shiro, catching the fondness of his smile in full force. His heart does an honest-to-God flip in his chest.

God, he’s so fucking in love.

“I gave Pidge the linkup to my comm,” he tells Shiro, voice just a touch softer. “You can both call me any time.”

“Good to know.” Shiro chuckles. “Wasn’t sure how to ask for it without it sounding juvenile.”

“You can ask me for anything,” Matt says, almost too honestly, but he doesn’t regret it. How could he when Shiro’s looking at him like that, all open and fond and warm. 

Pidge makes a soft noise as she pulls away and out of the hug. “Okay, ew. Wait for me to leave before you two get sappy.”

Matt grins, mussing her hair again. “You’re gonna have to get used to it, Katie-cat. Hopefully we’ll all be around each other a lot more.”

“I’m holding you to that. If you don’t visit soon I’m going to come and get you in Green and make you come back with me!” Pidge grins, and the glint in her eye tells Matt that she’s completely serious.”

“You can’t kidnap Matt, Pidge. He’s an ally now. Kidnapping might cause an intergalactic incident.” 

Matt just laughs. Spotting Zarra nearby, he calls, “Hey Z, if my sister comes to pick me up, you’re not gonna declare war on Voltron, right?”

She frowns as she approaches. “Why would I do that?”

“I’m not saying you would, I’m asking.” Matt grins. “Katie says she’ll kidnap me if I don’t make time to visit her.”

“As is her right, no?” Zarra cocks her head to the side. “You get so bogged down in work, Matthew. Sometimes you must be physically pulled away. If your sister deems it necessary to take you with force, there will be no complaint from me.” She smiles at Pidge. “Just maybe a request for a warning.”

Pidge absolutely beams at Zarra. “I can arrange that.”

“Wonderful.” Zarra laughs, then looks to Shiro with another lovely smile. “You are welcome, too, of course. I look forward to getting to know you better.”

Shiro couldn’t possibly look more surprised, or more wary. “You do?” 

“Of course,” Zarra says warmly. “You are the dearest love of my bonded kin. Matthew is the person I hold most sacred in my life, and we have shared much in our time together, but because of the pain he felt from your separation and his long-held belief that you had passed, he has not talked about you, and I do not know you. That is something I hope to rectify.” She smiles so brightly at Shiro, so open and honest and warm that Matt thinks he’s going to fucking melt. 

“I, um—” Shiro falters, blinking at Zarra. “That—yes? That would be—good.”

Zarra’s ears flick and Matt can’t even bother to try and stifle his delighted laugh. She rolls her eyes and punches his arm. 

“Watch yourself, Amatus. I have yet to get you to the training deck for your little stunt with your helmet and comms.”

“The broken ribs weren’t enough?!” he protests.

Zarra grins at him, the sharp, unforgiving expression striking justified fear into Matt’s heart. “I have not extracted revenge for the worry you caused me. That was merely the universe taking its own due.”

Pidge snorts, and Matt can feel the fondness he has for her quickly melting away. 

“I’m surrounded by short evil females,” he sighs. Zarra laughs, leaning up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek, her lips just brushing the corner of his mouth. His heart jumps in his chest as it always does at the gesture, something singular and special just for him, and then immediately sinks as he remembers Shiro at his side. Dammit. 

“You would not have it any other way, Matthew,” Zarra laughs, happily ignorant to Shiro’s misgivings about her. She smiles for Pidge and Shiro both. “I look forward to seeing you again soon. Travel safe back to your castle and your lions. Be easy.” She’s walking away before any of them can respond, toward the door and back to her trainees.

Pidge blinks after her, then looks up at Matt. “I like her.”

“It’s hard not to,” Matt says, irrevocably fond to his own ears. Shiro remains silent.

“Pidge!” Allura calls across the hangar from where she and Kartok have been conversing. “Are you ready? Hunk and Lance are already in Yellow. They are only waiting for you.”

“Coming!” She throws her arms around Matt’s neck once more, squeezing him as tight as she can—which is a whole lot tighter than it used to be, he notes, presumably thanks to her paladin training. So weird to see his little sister so grown up and independently capable. 

“Love you, Katie-cat,” he murmurs into her hair.

“I love you too, Matt. Don’t disappear again, okay?” Through her light tone he can hear the heartache she’s carried for the last three years.

“Never. I’m right here. Just a call away.”

She reluctantly relinquishes the embrace and brushes away a stray tear. “Okay, I’m gonna go now.”

Shiro smiles, places a hand on her shoulder, and says, “Tell Keith I’ll be there soon.”

Pidge nods. She dives in for one last quick squeeze around Matt’s waist before trotting off toward the massive yellow lion. He watches her go and sighs. 

“I wish you guys could stay,” Matt murmurs, keeping his eyes steady on Pidge as she jogs without pause into the open maw of the Yellow Lion. She pats a hand on the lion’s jaw as she steps inside, and then quickly disappears. “Was it really only yesterday that we found each other again?” 

“Feels like a lifetime ago,” Shiro says, very softly. 

Matt chuckles. “Not a bad lifetime, all in all, huh?” He aims a gentle smile at Shiro.

“No, not bad.” Shiro’s fingers slide into Matt’s. He looks past Matt, to the mouth of the hangar, where Zarra disappeared with Ortraz moving silently at her back. “Just… different.”

“You’re not wrong there, flyboy.” Matt turns to face Shiro, one arm slipping around his waist. “A lot of things are gonna be different. But they’re gonna be good.”

“Of course they will,” Shiro murmurs as he brushes the knuckles of his free hand across Matt’s cheek. There’s an impossible softness in his eyes replacing the apprehension about Zarra. “I’ve got you again. No way it couldn’t be good.”

“You’re a fucking sap, Shirogane, you know that?”

“Your sap.” Shiro’s hand cups ever so gently around Matt’s jaw to draw him into a lingering kiss. 

Matt smiles into the kiss, sinks into it, pours his heart and soul into that simple press of contact. Shiro slips his fingers higher, skimming Matt’s cheek, and fitting his palm to the curve of it. Matt presses up just a bit higher on his toes to close the little height distance left between them with a soft whir of his legs. 

He’s the one who breaks the kiss, he has to be. They’re in his hangar, on his base, his second in command is just out of sight and Shiro’s got the force of Voltron and the prissy Altean princess waiting on him. 

“Gotta let you go now, Takashi,” Matt whispers, leaning their foreheads together. “Your team is waiting for you. Last thing we need is Keith getting impatient like he used to with that damn bike of his.”

Shiro huffs a laugh and kisses Matt again. “I’ll be back. I’ll come back to you.” The words stir Matt’s memory, the way he told Zarra almost the same thing when he stumbled out of that pod bloody and addled the day before.

“You do that,” Matt whispers. “And call me, okay? Call me any time.”

“I will,” Shiro whispers back. “I love you.”

Matt smiles, stealing one last kiss before forcing himself to step back and away from Shiro completely. “I love you too. Now go, flyboy. Before I steal you from Voltron and piss off your magical, mystical lion.” 

Shiro grins, the same cocky look he used to have when Matt teased him in their Garrison days, although the scar across his face is still jarring. “I really think Black will like you.”

“We’ll see, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we will.” Shiro’s gaze lingers on Matt as he steps back and slips on his helmet. “I love you,” he repeats.

“I love you too. Go on, then.” Matt forces himself to retreat from the hangar, safe behind the barriers that will keep him from being sucked into space when the bay doors open. From that vantage point he watches Shiro, gloriously authoritative in that armor, approach the red lion and disappear into its waiting mouth. 

Matt can’t deny they’re quite a sight, even just the two of them, as the lions pace toward the creaking bay doors and dive into the stars.

“They will be back.” Leilani’s voice drifts gently from nearby and Matt turns to see a soft smile on their lovely face. “And I know you will go to them, too. I am so happy for you, Matthew.” As if in confirmation, honey and citrus dance teasingly on Matt’s tongue.

“Nothing I ever expected,” he murmurs. “Not Katie being out here, or Shiro—Shiro being alive at all.” A tide of indescribable gratitude rises through him. 

“I know.” Leilani cups his face in two hands, the other two settling on his shoulders. “This is good, Starling. You are happier than I have ever felt. And for that I am endlessly grateful.” They lean in and press a kiss to his forehead. 

Matt sighs, taking just a moment to lean into that sweet touch. “I should get back to the Hub.” he murmurs, not quite pulling away just yet. “Martek, come up as soon as things are locked down here.”

“Yes, Commander.”

* * *

He’s not sulking.

Martek can shoot him as many concerned, yet somehow still dry looks as he wants, but Matt is definitely not sulking. Shiro and the others have only been gone for a few hours and Matt is an adult, a Commander, and a bit of a badass these days. He does not  _ sulk. _

“Commander, you should—”

“I’m not asking for input, Martek.”

“Commander Zarra would tell you to take a break, sir,” Martek says stubbornly. 

Matt refuses to look away from his console. “Commander Zarra isn’t here.”

“A simple call to Ortraz and she can be.” Martek turns in his chair to look at Matt directly. “Would that help, sir?”

“I don’t need help. I’m reading diagnostic reports, Martek.” Matt rolls his eyes. “Go bother Jion. The pup is the one who needs your prodding, not me.”

“Actually, sir, I’d prefer not to have the distraction,” Jion calls. He’s rather thoroughly focused on his own work, running data on troop movements to send to Kartok and Zarra.

“Yeah and I gave you time off, pup, so I’d prefer if you were thoroughly distracted,” Matt bites back, with absolutely no venom. “I don’t know when it became okay for my orders to be ignored around here.”

Jion’s face remains puzzlingly unreadable as he replies, “I am not ignoring your orders, sir. I am merely doing what we had planned for me today. I do not need time off.”

Matt sighs, leaning back in his chair before pushing to his feet and crossing to Jion’s console.

“Pup,” he says softly. He rests one hand on Jion’s shoulder. “You don’t need to throw yourself into work like this. Take the time to process and come back when you’re ready. We’ll all be better off for it.”

Jion’s fingers go still on his keyboard. There’s a slight tremor to his shoulders when he looks up at Matt, golden eyes dim.

“Go,” Matt murmurs. “Do what you need to.”

A gentle squeeze of his hand on Jion’s shoulder is all it takes to draw a weak nod out of the young Galran. “Yes, Commander,” Jion whispers, getting to his feet. Martek joins them, a steady presence at Jion’s side.    
  
“Come. I will walk you to your quarters.” It’s not a request, and Jion knows better than to fight Martek. Matt squeezes his shoulder again before letting his hand fall away. Martek nudges Jion gently to get him moving and looks to Matt. “I will make sure he gets settled, sir.”

“Good,” Matt sighs, carding a hand through his hair. He swallows back his own burgeoning grief, his own loss. He’ll deal with that shit later, when he can get his kin alone and their work for the day is done. “Take your time.”

It’s almost comical to watch tiny Martek escort gangly Jion from the Hub, but Matt’s glad they have one another’s support. Losses hit everyone hard, and he knows all too well the pain of a loved one being ripped away too soon. 

On that note he slinks back to his own console with a sigh. Without Martek here to fuss, now, maybe he can actually get some work done.

His comm goes off with a sharp ping before he can even pull up his documents. 

Matt sighs, reaching for it without glancing at the display. “This is Holt.”

He can hear the grin in the achingly familiar voice that says, “Hello, Commander. Good to know this linkup works.”

“Shiro?” Matt blinks, immediately sitting up in his chair. “Holy shit!”

“Hi,” Shiro laughs. Matt can just picture his smile. “Got some time to talk?”

“I’ve always got time for you, handsome.” Matt doesn’t hesitate to push out of his chair again, shout a few instructions over his shoulder for the remaining coders, and head to his room. “Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! The end of So Come to Me and the end of "official" timeline for This is Why We Fight.
> 
> Thank you all so much for all the love and the patience with this long winding road we've been on!
> 
> There's plenty more to come, stories we have planned to follow in the verse, both that come before the timeline we have here and after (way way after, haha) and we can't wait to share those with you too. Come visit us at this-iswhywefight.tumblr.com to let us know what you want to see or anything you want more details on!
> 
> Thank you again! We love you! <3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading. You can find us on Tumblr [here](http://this-iswhywefight.tumblr.com), where we're always taking questions and requests.


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